


Shattered

by Are_you_ever_not_going_to_fall_for_that



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Angsty to the max, Complete, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, PTSD Stiles, Post-Season/Series 02 AU, Scott is a Good Friend, Stiles-centric, Torture, Triggers, eventual self-injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-04-06 09:41:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 61
Words: 75,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4216845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Are_you_ever_not_going_to_fall_for_that/pseuds/Are_you_ever_not_going_to_fall_for_that
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has been missing for 4 months and then he is found, but he's not the same as he once was. Warnings: Torture, Abuse, PTSD, and eventual self-injury. Trigger warning. Now complete.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf.
> 
> Warnings: Torture, abuse, some swearing. Trigger warnings to come.

Stiles was too quiet, way too quiet. It used to be that Scott would beg him sometimes to shut up so he could concentrate, but he would give anything for Stiles to be chatting his ear off now. Scott couldn't help but stare at him, he looked so different from when they had last seen each other. The normal vibrant and chatty teen was staring out his window completely still and silent. He was wearing Mr. Stilinski's coat and his pants since they found him.

No, he didn't want to think about that room that Stiles had been in for 4 months. He couldn't seem to help it though. There had been no windows, only a single light bulb that had been too far away from where Stiles had been chained to turn it on. No, he wasn't going to think about the room anymore, or the fact that the jacket and pants were hiding numerous scars.

The car stopped and Scott pulled his attention away from Stiles, they were here. Stiles gave no indication he realized where they were and just kept staring out his window. Scott got out of the car, and along with Mr. Stilinski made his way around to Stiles door. Mr, Stilinski opened it and Stiles still didn't even seem to realize that he was supposed to get out.

"Stiles," he said quietly, hoping to gain his attention but Stiles just kept on staring silently.

"Stiles," Mr. Stilinski said louder and Stiles still didn't seem to notice. Scott and Mr. Stilinski shared a short hopeless stare before turning back to Stiles.

"Stiles!" Mr. Stilinski shouted and Stiles still didn't look away from where his eyes were. Scott put his hand on Stiles's shoulder hoping some psychical contact would break whatever trance he was in. Stiles finally blinked and looked at them.

'Stiles, we've got to go in," Stiles didn't say anything or nod, but he did get himself out of the car and stood looking at the hospital impassively. It hurt Scott so much to see his friend like this, so unlike himself and he knew stealing a glance at his father that Mr. Stilinski felt that same way. Stiles started walking towards the hospital entrance and Scott and Mr. Stilinski followed him.

They went into the door and Scott's Mom was there to greet them, she knew they were coming as they had called on the car ride over. She was looking at Stiles. She couldn't see the scars that were there or the bruises, or broken bones, but they were there. No, he didn't want to think of how Stiles looked when they had found him, but his mind went back there anyways without his consent.

_The floor had been covered in dried blood, Stiles's dried blood. His naked body was covered only in bruises of various stages of healing. He hadn't looked away from the wall when they had come in._

No, he couldn't think about that right now. His mother was leading Stiles and Mr. Stilinski away and he had to follow them. Scott had to be there for Stiles, who had always been there for him in the past, even when he had been too far into Alison to see it. They were lead into a room where his Mom gave Stiles a hospital gown and told him to change into it. Stiles stared at the hospital gown, but there was no complaining, no jokes.

"Do you need help?" Mr. Stilinski asked. Stiles continued staring at the gown and Scott wondered whether or not they were going to have to continue trying when Stiles shook his head. Mr. Stilinski left the room and Scott wanted to leave too, but he had to ask.

"Do you want me to stay?" he felt horrible that he wanted the answer to be no so bad. Seeing the dried blood and bruises had been horrible the first time, he really didn't want to have to see them again. Stiles took a moment then shook his head again. Scott felt horrible about being grateful that Stiles didn't want him there and left the room.

Once he was out of the room he tried to concentrate on anything else. The way he felt so much pleasure at killing the men that had held Stiles captive, he should feel bad about that, but he didn't. He had felt a little bad until he had seen Stiles, although he knew they hadn't been good to Stiles ever since he had stepped foot in the house and smelt his blood.

"Scott," he jumped and looked at his mom who was looking at him concerned.

"Are you okay?" Scott laughed, but it wasn't a pleasant one.

"My best friend has been kidnaped for the last 4 months. He doesn't look or sound like himself," His mom handed him some scrub bottom which he looked at with confusion before remembering he was in his boxers, having given Stiles his pants. He didn't feel embarrassed at all funnily enough, but he took the pants from his mother, took off his shoes and put on the scrub bottoms and put his shoes back on. It gave him something else to focus on for a little bit which he was grateful for. A doctor went past them and headed into Stiles's room. Scott stared at Stiles's room, should he go in now? Support him through the examination? Mr. Stilinski seemed to think so, because he headed back into the room and Scott stared after him for a moment.

"Things will get better, after all he has you," his mother tried to soothe him putting her hand on his back, Scott shrugged it off, a fat load that did him. Scott was a werewolf and it had still taken him 4 months to find him.

"Mom, how can he ever be better after everything he's been through?" Scott asked looking at her face and saw her scrambling to come up with an answer, which meant she didn't know any more than him.

Scott nodded, then took a deep breath, he should be in there with Stiles, be there for him, because whatever he was feeling had to be only a fraction of what Stiles must be feeling. He walked into through the door and saw Stiles was in bed though the blankets were only over his feet. The gown didn't cover his arms or legs and Scott tried to avoid looking at the bruises, the cuts and dried blood that covered the exposed limbs.

The doctor was touching him and although it had to hurt, even though the doctor was doing in gingerly, Stiles didn't make a sound. What did those bastards do to him to make him this way?! Scott immediately went over to Stiles and grabbed his hand. He didn't care that normally two boys, even ones who were best friends don't hold hands, he did care then Stiles didn't hold his hand back. In fact, he seemed to have become lost again in the wall to his right. The doctor stopped touching him and looked at Mr. Stilinski.

"Well, he's bruised up and several of the cuts are going to need stitches. He seems to have two broken bones, one his left leg, and one in his right arm. We'll need an X-ray to be sure." Mr. Stilinski nodded and Scott look down at Stiles, who hadn't looked away from the spot on the wall.

"I'll send someone up here to clean and stitch him, then we can x-ray him. You said you already processed him right?" Mr. Stilinski and Scott shared a look. There had been no need, they had killed the ones responsible for what had happened to Stiles. Mr. Stilinski just nodded.

"Alright then, someone will be here soon," the doctor said then left the room. Scott looked at Stiles, who still hadn't looked away from the spot on the wall he had been staring at for at least 5 minutes now. Scott's grip on Stiles's hand increased, but Stiles's grip on Scott's hand was still exactly the same.

The nurse that walked in a few minutes later wasn't his mom. Scott wished it was, even though his Mom probably wasn't there because she might have a hard time stitching Stiles up. The nurse turned to them and asked.

"I'm going to have to clean and stitch him up during part of which he'll be naked." Scott had seen Stiles naked before, it wasn't something he particularly liked seeing, but he had seen it before. Of course when Stiles was naked he would see all of them again, all the wounds. He could handle it, Scott nodded and a little bit after Mr. Stilinski did. She first took a wash cloth and ran it over his face, arms and legs removing the dried blood, dirt and whatever else was on his body. She set to cleaning up the cuts. Scott honestly wasn't sure it was any better now. There was no dried blood, but he could see every bruise and every cut where some of them had been hidden before. After looking over for a few moments, she took something out of a drawer. It was a syringe which she quickly removed from it's packaging. She looked at Stiles who during who hadn't once looked at her she had come into the room. She looked at them instead after a moment.

"It'll numb him," She told them before shot him several times on his arms and legs. Scott watched Stiles's face, he didn't look away from the wall the entire time, or even wince in pain. The woman glanced at Stiles's face again and brought out a needle this time started stitching him up.

Scott was starting to feel sick. He had never felt sick of the sight of blood before, or even someone being hurt. But this was Stiles, his best friend. His friend was being stitched up and he wasn't making a sound, he still hadn't even looked away from the wall. She finished the last set of stitches then looked at Stiles with pity in her eyes.

"Honey, I'm going to turn you onto your back. Is that okay?" Stiles didn't move still. The nurse after a moment gently rolled him onto his back. Scott's eyes started to water and his stomach started to roll. He hadn't seen his back in the house, too focused on the horror that was his front. He heard the nurses sharp intake of breath. His back was a mess. There were what looked like whip marks all across his back, many looked deep and very painful. There were bruises too and other smaller cuts. He wanted to be there for Stiles, but that's when his stomach choose to rebel. Scott rushed to the bathroom that was part of the hospital room and emptied his stomach's contents into the toilet. Just when he thought he was done barfing another wave of nausea would hit him. There was a hand on his back he knew that hand anywhere.

"Mom, how's he supposed to be okay?" he asked again, this time tears were making their way down his cheeks and he didn't even care to wipe them off. "He's broken and I don't how I'm supposed to fix him?"

"Scott, it will take time," she said slowly "maybe even a lot of time. But you'll be there for him, every step of the way and that will make all the difference," he really wanted to believe her, believe that everything one day would be fine again. Believe that Stiles would get back to his annoyingly talkative self, but he wasn't sure if it could.

"The nurse is done cleaning and stitching him now. He'll be taken for an x-ray in a few minutes," Scott got up from his position next to the toilet and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He washed his hands in the sink next to the toilet. He then cupped his hand underneath the still running water and brought the water to his mouth, he swished it around a little bit and spit it into the sink. The teen turned to face his mother who was looking at him concerned.

"I should go be with him until they take him away," he tried to say strongly, but it didn't come out that way.

"I think that would be a good idea," she agreed and Scott nodded, he made his way back into the room and saw Mr. Stilinski staring at Stiles and Stiles still staring at the wall. Scott swallowed and made his way back to his friends side. He grabbed Stiles's hand again.

"Stiles, I don't where you are, but I'm here for you okay? I'm here for you," he assured softly. Stiles's eyes didn't so much as blink though. Scott fought the tears back that wanted to escape this time. He had to be strong for Stile,s he had to be. Someone stepped into the room with a wheelchair. They were coming to take Stiles, he fought back the wolf in him who wanted to rip this person apart who wanted to take Stiles away from him. Instead, he stepped back as the nurse got his friend out of bed and settled him into the wheelchair and started wheeling him out.

As soon as Stiles was out the door, Scott couldn't seem to stand anymore and fell into a chair by the empty bedside. He felt so weak, so drained and since Stiles wasn't in the room anymore, he could feel these things without feeling so guilty. He heard more then saw Mr. Stilinski sit down next to him. Scott looked up and saw Mr. Stilinski looking at him. Scott swore to him with his eyes that he would do whatever it took to heal Stiles and Mr. Stilinski swore it back to him. They as one looked back at the bed Stiles had been laid on and settled into to wait till he came back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading please let me know what you think.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every Chapter will now have a Stiles flashback, some short, some long.
> 
> I suppose its' important to say that technically this story is AU as of the end of the second season.

Stiles opened his eyes a little, expecting to see a pillow or a blanket, or really anything from his room, instead he found darkness. Maybe it was still night and he just needed to find the lamp on his bedside table. He tried to feel for his lamp, only to find he couldn't move his hand. He tried to move the other hand, only to find the same problem.

He shook his head only to realize that whatever was making it dark was on his head and it moved as he shook it. "Okay what's going on?" he asked nervously. There was no response. "Is this some kind of hazing ritual because I played for the first time?" No response again, but this time he heard the sound of other cars and he noticed they were in motion. "So I'm in a car with a hood on and my hands tied behind my back... I'm being kidnaped aren't I?" He thought aloud. There was still no response until someone punched him the stomach, did that count as a response? He knew it sure hurt a lot.

Greg Now

Greg parked the car in front of his house and heard only one door open, he sighed. He looked back and saw that it had been Scott's door that had opened and not Stiles's. He got out of the drivers seat and made his way around the car to where Scott had opened the door. Stiles was still staring at nothing like he had been all day. Stiles was wearing some scrubs from the hospital and the cast on his left leg and right arm was prominent as was the tube in his nose. His son was severely malnourished and they couldn't get him to eat at the hospital, so they had put a feeding tube in him. He noticed again the signatures on the casts, Scott had signed his name on both already in an attempt to get to Stiles, it hadn't worked.

"Stiles we're home," he said softly and watched for any kind of response from his son. Stiles blinked and turned his head to stare at the house. Stiles pulled himself out of the car. That's when Greg remembered Stiles's broken leg and how he should be using crutches. He opened the passenger's side door and grabbed them and made to hand them to Stiles- only to see Stiles walking without them, like his leg wasn't broken, like the pain on walking on a newly broken then reset leg wasn't agonizing. He remembered in the hospital that they said that another bone in Stiles already broken leg had been broken and had healed wrong. So his son had two broken bones in one leg and was walking like he didn't feel it. That was very not good. Scott met his gaze his eyes saying the same thing he was thinking. He moved to catch up with Stiles. Who was staring at the front door, which was when Greg remembered that the door was locked and took out his keys and put it in the lock.

He unlocked the door and held it open for Stiles who didn't wait even a moment before making his way inside. Scott came in after him and Greg closed the door. Stiles wasn't going up to his room, he was looking at everything in the living room with absolutely no expression.

"Stiles we should go up to your room," Scott said after several moments of this.

"And use these," he said forcing the crutches into Stiles' hands. He looked at the crutches with that damn vacant expression on his face. Greg looked at the stairs.

"Once you get up the stairs." He amended then took the crutches from Stiles and gave them to Scott. Stiles' face didn't change at all while he made his way up the stairs. Greg watched as Scott followed him up the stairs. He followed up after them and watched as Scott handed Stiles his crutches when they got to the top. Stiles starred at the crutches for a long moment, before walking while just holding them to his room. His bedroom wasn't far away so before Greg even had a chance to argue Stiles was already inside his room.

He followed Stiles to his room where Stiles looked around at it, with about the same amount of interest as he had with the living room. Scott led Stiles to his bed and Stiles after a long moment sat down. Scott picked up the crutches and held them. Greg watched as Stiles gaze went into the wall and knew he was gone again. He exchanged glances with Scott again and they moved into the hall together.

"At least he's home," Scott said quietly. Greg looked through the door and to his son again, who hadn't so much as moved a muscle since sitting down on the bed. Greg nodded, not entirely sure anymore what exactly it was he was agreeing to, even though Scott had said whatever he had said only moments ago.

"I need to stay with him," Greg looked from Stiles to Scott who was staring at him. The need or better yet the plea of being able to stay with Stiles was written all over his face. As much as it hurt him to acknowledge it, he wasn't the one who helped Stiles through his mother's death. The sheriff had too distracted by his own pain, it was Scott that had helped his son through it. If Stiles was- he corrected himself -of course he would, he would be fine, for Stiles to get through this he would need Scott and any support he could get. He nodded.

"Do you think he's going to be able to sleep?" Scott asked him hesitantly. He looked again to his son who was still staring at the wall.

"I hope so," he said, but he honestly didn't have any clue. He was too skinny, he hadn't been feed nearly enough. They had tried to get Stiles to eat, but he hadn't thus the feeding tube in his nose. Until they get Stiles to eat normally, they were going to have to feed him that way. Which he remembered he left stuff in the car.

"Scott, can you grab the stuff from the ca?," he asked taking his keys from his pocket and holding them out. He wanted to talk to his son alone, he hadn't been able to all day. Scott looked over at Stiles.

"Scott please," he asked. Scott nodded and took the keys from him. It wouldn't take him long so Greg had to tell Stiles what he had been wanted to tell him all day.

"Stiles, I'm so sorry. It's all my fault. If it hadn't been for me, you wouldn't be like this today," Stiles didn't say anything back, didn't curse him or absolve him, he just continued staring at the ceiling. "I'm so sorry Stiles," He walked up to him and put his hand gingerly on Stiles' shoulder again hoping to get some response, but Stiles stayed still. It wasn't natural for his son to be this still. He was supposed to be running around, talking up a storm. That was his son, not this shell of him. He heard someone come in from behind him. He looked just to make sure and it was Scott before he looked back to Stiles.

"Did you put them in the fridge?"

"Yes," that reminded him, tomorrow Mrs. McCall would be coming over to teach him all about how to feed his son, since he wouldn't eat willingly. They had told him a lot about it at the hospital, but he had been distracted at the time. He let out a loud yawn.

"You should try to sleep," Scott suggested gently. They had had a long day, but Greg didn't want to leave his sons side, the one he just got back.

"I should be with Stiles," he said shaking his head.

"I'll be with him and you need to sleep. I'm a werewolf." Greg nodded, he had found that out not very long after Stiles had gone missing.

"You need anything, and I mean anything you let me know no matter what time it is." he demanded.

"I promise," Scott said his eyes earnest. Greg looked once more at his son whose eyes hadn't moved at all in all the time they were talking.

"Goodnight Stiles," he called out to him like he might have 4 months ago on the way to bed. Stiles didn't acknowledge that he said anything and Greg sighed but moved down to his room. He was too tired, too emotional and psychically tired to change his clothes. Instead, he just pulled off his shoes and fell into bed. Despite his exhaustion, he couldn't help but think of his son. He had never seen his son like this before. Even when Claudia had died he hadn't been like this. How was he going to be able to get his son through this? Those thoughts echoed in his head as he fell into an uneasy sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Stiles 4 months ago.**

* * *

The car was stopping- a sharp sudden pain to his head made it difficult to focus or even try to fight. He felt himself being moved. After his head stopped pounded quite so much he tried kicking, but his feet met nothing. He abruptly fell to the floor he grunted as his leg hit the ground at a strange angle. It twinged a bit but probably wasn't broken.

He felt something touch his arms and he tried to figure out what they were doing. He tensed as he realized they were taking off whatever was tying his hands behind his back. He got ready to move. Once his hands were free he tried to move them, but before he got more than an inch his hands were captured again and put into something cold and metal. He could suddenly see, he blinked a few times and looked to see who had captured him. There were three people in front of him. Two men and 1 woman in their mid to late 20's. They were all staring at him in a manner that was decidedly unfriendly.

"You're not the Argents or Derek's crew and those are the only people I think I can of who would try to kidnap me," he thought aloud, a funny thought occurred to him. "Two kidnappings in one week, I bet even peach gets more down time between kidnappings," he with a laugh. They just glared at him, apparently not getting the reference or just not finding it funny. "So why the kidnapping?" he asked nervously.

"Your father," one of the men said. Stiles frowned.

"What about my father?"

"Shut up." the man said his glare intensifying.

"Okay shutting up now," he replied nervously.

"Your father shot our brother and killed him," if his father had killed their brother, their brother must have done something wrong. His Dad wouldn't shoot anyone for no reason.

"You think our brother deserved to die!" the other man shouted. Stiles winced as he realized he must have actually said what he was thinking aloud. The man strode forward until the other older man stopped him.

"There's plenty of time for that, but we have to let him know first."

"Fine. Your Dad killed our brother! He took care of us, watched over us and the only reason he held up that store was for money to feed us! Your Dad didn't care, just plugged him full of holes. We all went into foster care. They separated us! They hurt us! So we have you now and we're going to show the sheriff our pain!" Stiles breath stopped as the man advanced towards him again.

"Is that good enough," he called to his brother.

"Sounds good to me," the man said. The man raised his fist and slammed it very hard into his shoulder. He screamed in pain, even as he saw all three of them smile like they were enjoying it.

* * *

Scott's POV

Scott opened his eyes and saw somewhat familiar surroundings. It took a few more moments to recognize Stiles's room then it would have to recognize his own. He move a little and winced. He had fell asleep in a chair. Scott got out of the chair and felt as the healing that was part of being a werewolf took effect. He looked down at Stiles hoping to find him asleep, but his eyes were open and staring. At least Stiles was staring at a new part of the wall, maybe that meant he got some sleep.

"Stiles," he asked. Stiles still didn't respond.

"Stiles your home, you're safe now," He had already tried that line several times last night and it hadn't produced an effect then either. It just made him sound like a broken record.

"Stiles, come on man give me some kind of response."

"Anything, anything at all," Stiles continued to gaze blankly at the ceiling.

"Stiles," he trailed off and just looked at Stiles. "I'm going to go get something to eat, I'll be back in a moment." He said even though he had no idea if anything he saying Stiles was even processing. He left the room and took several deep breaths. He went down the stairs just because he said he was going to eat, although he had no plans on eating, he wasn't really hungry. He froze as he saw Mr. Stilinski sitting at the table, just staring at it. He didn't want to bother Mr. Stilinskik so he started to back away from the kitchen.

"Your mother will be here soon and some people called to ask if they could drop by." Scott turned back around.

"Who?"

"Lydia and Isaac, I told them they could come by whenever." Scott raised his eyebrows, not because of Lydia (Lydia had helped at lot in the finding of Stiles) but because of Issac. Things weren't going so smoothly between him and Derek at the moment. Still, he was glad that people were rallying around Stiles in his time of need.

Scott's eyes flickered to the door and to the stairs. Should he wait here for his mom or should he be up there with Stiles? Stiles blank staring eyes were in his mind so he decided to wait down here for his mom. He sat down next to Mr. Stilinski, who seemed to be back to gazing at the table, like it could give him all the answers on how to fix everything. Scott looked down at the table just in case it had the answers to the universe written on it, it didn't so he looked back up. He looked at Mr. Stilinski unsure of what to say. He was still staring at Mr. Stilinski when the doorbell rung ten minutes later. Mr. Stilinski looked up tiredly. Scott got up from his seat.

"I'll get it, it's probably my mom anyway," Mr. Stilinski nodded gratefully. Scott rushed a bit down the hall and to the door which he opened to find his mother standing there. He held the door open and she walked in. As soon as Scott shut the door, he couldn't seem to help himself, he wrapped his arms around her.

"Mom," he said quietly. His mother let him hug her for a long moment before he let her go and stepped back a bit.

"Scott you being good for Mr. Stilinski? You being helpful...not causing any trouble?" Scott nodded. "That's good," he heard her say quietly more likely to herself than him. She cleared his throat.

"So where is Greg?" she asked.

"In the kitchen," his mom nodded, knowing enough of the layout of the house to know where the kitchen was from there.

"How is he?" she asked quietly. Scott shook his head.

"Not good," he said simply, but what good father would be okay much less goo when his only son was like this. His mom nodded understandingly. She started towards the kitchen and Scott followed her. He watched his mom look at Mr. Stilinski with sympathy.

"Greg," she said softly, but loud enough to be heard. Mr. Stilinski's eyes shot up from the table and met his mother's.

"Melissa," he said, he blinked a few times, then got slowly to his feet and started leading the way up the stairs. The three sets of feet seemed unnaturally slow and heavy making their way up the stairs. Mr. Stilinski stopped at the door to Stiles's room for a long moment before going in. Scott hoped that in the little time that he had been gone maybe Stiles had improved, but he was still staring at the same spot he had been when he had left the room. He heard Mr. Stilinski sigh. His mom took charge after that, showing Mr. Stilinski and himself how to make sure the feeding tube was in the proper place and how to feed him. He tried his hardest to focus in case he ever needed to do it, he got most of it, but his eyes kept being drawn to Stiles vacant ones. This was not the Stiles he knew; this was not his best friend. He immediately felt guilty for thinking those thoughts though. It was his best friend, it was Stiles. He was just...broken. Somehow that thought didn't make him feel any better.

"Scott," Scott blinked as realized his mom had been talking to him for a little bit.

"Sorry mom I just..." he didn't know how to explain how he was feeling.

"It's okay, I understand. I was just asking if you were coming home tonight?" Scott frowned, of course, he was staying here tonight. He was going to stay here at his best friends side till Stiles felt better.

"Scott, you can't stay here for the rest of your life."

"It's been one night," his Mom sighed.

"Alright, but we're going to talk about this more tonight okay," Scott nodded although he had no inclination whatever so ever to stay home while Stiles was suffering without him.

"I've got to get to work," she kissed his check "Be good okay?" Scott nodded. She left the room leaving just him and Stiles.

A few hours later Scott heard the doorbell. Mr. Stilinski was out of the house, he said something about shopping. Scott made his way to the door and opened it to see Issac standing there.

"Issac."

"How is he?" Issac asked with his hands in his shoved into his gray sweaters pockets, not looking at him. Scott moved from the door to let Issac in, so they could have the conversation inside. Issac stepped inside and Scott shut the door.

"Not good. He doesn't really respond when you talk to him." Issac nodded still not looking at Scott. He wondered for a moment if Issac was mad at him. He did kind of abandon Derek and everyone in the pack as soon as Stiles had gone missing. He had been drawn back into it though, by people who threatened other people he cared about, which why it had taken 4 months for him to find Stiles and why Stiles was so broken. If only he had gotten to him sooner. Scott shoved those thoughts out of his head.

"The thing in his nose is a feeding tube." he warned Isaac.

"He's not eating?" Scott shook his head sadly.

"Can I see him now?" Issac asked still not looking at him.

"Yeah," He led the way up the stairs and to Stiles's room. He knocked on the door before he entered, even though Stiles probably wouldn't notice.

"Can I talk to him alone?" Issac asked this time looking at him in the eyes. There were a lot of intense emotions in those eyes and he had a feeling they had nothing to do with him. Scott nodded and started heading out of the room.

"And Scott," Scott turned around. "Please don't listen in, what I have to say is for Stiles only." Scott nodded and added.

"Make sure to sign his cast." Issac nodded and picked up the permanent marker from Stiles's desk. Scott turned around and headed out the door. He went down to the kitchen to increase the distance between them so he wouldn't be as tempted to listen into the conversation. It was hard though, he wanted to know what Issac was saying to Stiles. He busied himself in making a sandwich, although he wasn't really sure he was planning on eating it. He made a fairly complex sandwich since apparently what Issac wanted to say to Stiles was very long. He was done with said sandwich and now just looking at it. It was a good looking sandwich, however, he had no desire to eat it at the moment.

What he wanted was to have his friend back, or at least eavesdrop on what Issac was saying, he barely managed to resist. He heard footsteps on the steps and knew that Issac must have finished talking to Stiles.

"I signed his cast," Isaac said.

"He didn't say anything to you did he?" Issac shook his head, after a few seconds pause he added.

"Derek wants to talk to you," Scott glared.

"Is that why you came? To be Derek's messenger boy?" Isaac shook his head.

"No, I wanted to talk to Stiles, Derek just thought since I would be seeing you anyways he could kill 2 birds with one stone."

"I think you should go now," Isaac held up his hands.

"I am really only here for Stiles, but I'll go if that's what you want," he started heading out of the kitchen and Scott heard the door open then shut. Mr. Stilinski walked into the room with some grocery bags.

"Isaac decided to visit?" Mr. Stilinski asked. Scott looked at him and decided just to nod and not include anything about Issac's message. Mr. Stilinski nodded and put the grocery bags down and went back out of the kitchen, only to return a few moments later with another set of grocery which he also put on the table.

"There all of Stiles favorite foods," Mr. Stilinski answered his unasked question. "This morning I was looking through the cupboards and fridge and everything Stiles likes is either gone or too old, so I had to buy some for him," Scott nodded his understanding. Mr. Stilinski started putting the food away and Scott watched him, noting the foods he was putting away were in fact Stiles favorites and how he hadn't really had most of them since Stiles had gone missing, it hadn't seemed right to eat them without Stiles. He looked up the stairs he should get back to it. Only just then the doorbell rang again.

"I'll get it," he offered and Mr. Stilinski nodded gratefully again.. He opened the door moments later.

"Lydia," he was glad to see her. He knew why Lydia was here and there no double agenda here. Lydia was in love with Jackson, but she developed some friendly feeling towards Stiles ever since he had been kidnaped. She had done a lot to help them find Stiles.

"You found him," Scott nodded even though it was a statement, not a question.

"How is he?" she asked.

"Not good."

"How so?" she asked.

"He's not really talking," Lydia brow creased she knew how Stiles loved to talk and if he wasn't talking that there must be something seriously wrong with him. "He's also not really responding to really anything." Lydia nodded after a moment.

"Can I see him?" Scott nodded. He took her through the house and up to Stiles room. He knocked on the door again and went in. Stiles hadn't moved since he had brought Isaac up, he was still staring at the same spot.

"Do you want some privacy?" he asked. Lydia shook her head, her eyes getting teary.

"Will he know if I talk to him?"

"I don't know," Scott said with a shrug. Lydia nodded.

"Stiles," she said softly. If nothing had happened, Stiles would be over the moon to have Lydia in his room right now trying to talk to him. Stiles, however, didn't seem to realize Lydia was in his room or even worse didn't care. Scott motioned to her that she should go on.

"Stiles, I'm not wearing any underwear." Scott's eyes widened and Lydia turned to him with a shrug.

"That usually grabs guys attention, I thought I'd give it a try." it may have gotten his attention, but it hadn't grabbed the desired objects attention, Stiles was still staring vacantly.

"Stiles?" she said with a frown because she unused to being ignored. "Stiles," she said in a sing-song voice. "Stiles," she said annoyed. She sighed.

"Stiles I want you to know that when you do come back from where ever you are, things will be different between us...I'll be friendly towards you," she seemed unsure of what else to say then she turned and started heading for the door. Scott followed her out.

"I'm going to go now," she said and Scott nodded. He walked her down the stairs and to the door. She looked at him for a moment before leaving.

"He'll be okay," she said she sounded so sure, he wanted so much to believe her. She seemed to read his unsureness.

"He's Stiles," she said with a smile, Scott smiled back he hoped she was right.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing

It had been three days since they had rescued Stiles and a lot of people had visited in those three days. Among them, Alison, Danny, and somewhat surprisingly Jackson. Stiles was still the same, the only way of speculating if Stiles got any sleep was that he seemed to pick a new place to stare at every morning.

Of course at the moment he had no idea how Stiles was doing, his mom had made him go back to school, something about having missed too many days already. It wasn't like he was even learning anything at school anyways. He attention wasn't on whatever was being talked about at all but on Stiles. The werewolf looked up at the clock again which seemed to be going in slow motion in disbelief, there was no way that was the right time. The clock seemed to be moving in slow motion. Eventually, though much too slowly for his liking the bell rung and Scott ran out of the door.

He was at Stiles's house in under 5 minutes. He jumped onto the roof and went into the open window. Stiles was exactly how he left him hours ago when he went to school. Scott deflated a little. He sat down in the chair he sat in, slept in and spent most of his time in since Stiles had come home. He stared at Stiles for a long time, and then went on the bargaining session of the day.

"Stiles, how about your move your head even a little bit for me? I'll give you a cookie?" he said holding up a stack of cookies he had intended to eat 3 days ago, but instead kept offering to Stiles.

"Or maybe you could blink out a code," Stiles blinked but only automatically not in any kind of pattern and Scott had made sure. He had even found some of his old scouting books and looked.

"I'll talk with you about how great Lydia is," Stiles talked about how great Lydia was a lot, so in the last few years Scott had just ignored Stiles when he started talking a lot about Lydia, like he was sure Stiles did when he started talking too much about Alison. No response.

"Stiles you've got to snap out of it man. You're home. You're safe." Stiles's eyes remained vacant. Scott kept talking to him trying to get him to break out it. He talked about anything and everything he could think of, hoping something would break through to Stiles. Hoping that he would finally have his best friend back after all this time and that his guilt would lessen.

A few hours later Mr. Stilinski yelled up the stairs.

"Scott your Mom's here for you." Scott's brow furrowed what was his mom doing here? He got up from his chair and made his way down to the living room where his mom was standing looking at him.

"Mom? What are you doing here?" he said echoing his thoughts aloud.

"I have to talk to you,"

"What about?"

"Scott you can't stay here all the time,"

"What?" his mom had to be kidding.

"You can stay for tonight, but starting tomorrow your sleeping at home,"

"But Stiles needs me." and he needed him.

"And he'll still need you in the morning but you have to sleep in a bed,"

"But Mom."

"No, buts you are coming home at 10 pm every night and you going to sleep in your own bed. If Mr. Stilinski lets you, you can come over an hour before school starts but no earlier than that. You can come here after school but only until 10 pm and if you are more than 5 minutes late I'll rethink this, is that understood?" Scott glared at his mom but knew from experience that when she had that look on her face that she did, that she meant what she said.

"Fine, can I go back now?" Scott's mom nodded. Scott left the living room and went back to Stiles's room. She didn't understand, but that was because he hadn't told anybody, and he wasn't going to it was his burden to bare and his alone.

* * *

 

3 months and 3 weeks ago.

The room had no windows, no natural light coming in. The only time the only light in the room was on was when they were there. So Stiles learned to appreciate the dark because when it was dark it meant they weren't there. It was dark at the moment, he thought about Scott. Scott would save him. All he had to do was wait for him to come. They were best friends, Scott wouldn't leave him there. He kept that mantra going in his head because it made him feel better, gave him something else to think about. He heard the door open and closed his eyes. He didn't want to see which one it was. They all had a particular kind of torture they liked to use on him and Stiles didn't really want to see which one he would be getting at the moment.

"So Stiles? What kind of parent names their kid Stiles?" Cutter taunted. Stiles kept his eyes closed because even though he knew which one was there now, he wanted to pretend that he wasn't there. Stiles bit his lip. They didn't like it when he talked, he had learned that in the last week. Cutter found his voice annoying and the others thought it was as good as any reason to hurt him.

Still, that didn't mean they didn't ask him questions. It was like they wanted him to talk so they had a reason to hurt him.

"Look at me when I talk to you," Stiles opened his eyes reluctantly to see Cutter. He was in front of him glaring down at him. He was the oldest of them. Cutter had kept Bruiser from hurting him until he had explained why on his first day here. Cutter was fat but not nearly as fat as Bruiser. He had a dark beard and long dark hair. Of course, most of Stile's attention wasn't on Cutter it was on the razor he held in his hand.

Stiles didn't actually know any of their names, they had never said it around him. He named them himself according to what they liked to do to him. Cutter liked to Cut him. Whips liked to whip him and Bruiser like to bruise him. All of them creating a horrible mosaic of pain.

"Please don't," he whispered then winced remembering how he wasn't supposed to talk. Cutter smiled a nasty smile and brought the razor down onto his chest. Cutter had taken his shirt when he had run out of space on his arms. Stiles screamed in pain again and again trying to keep himself quiet knowing Cutter only cut more when he screamed, but it hurt too damn much!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Teen Wolf

Scott got ready for bed like he was going along with the verdict. He even got in bed and waited for the sounds of his mother breathing to ease and for the soft snoring to start. As soon as he heard the sound he was waiting for he got out of bed. The teen stripped off his pajamas and put on jeans and a shirt on, and pulled on a jacket. He opened his window and jumped. From there he ran and leaped until he was where he was planning on going- Stiles's roof. If he wasn't allowed to sit in there with him, he'd sit out here and watch him.

For hours nothing happened, Stiles just stayed in the place like usual. -No, no Stiles staying in place wasn't usual, he reminded himself- it was abnormal. Scott felt himself nodded off on the roof when he heard someone step into Stiles room. He looked at his watch. It was 2:30 in the morning. He shifted and tensed getting ready to pounce until he heard it.

"Stiles." Scott shifted back and relaxed it was Mr. Stilinski's voice. "Stiles, can you hear me?" Scott felt uncomfortable now. He was eavesdropping on what was most likely meant to be a private conversation. Scott was undecided on what to do when he heard.

"Your mom...your mom would know what to do, she always did...me...I don't know what to do. You get into trouble... I ground you. You lie...I never did know what to do when you lied...I understand now you were trying to protect me, but don't you know I'm your father. I'm supposed to be the one who protects you, not the other way around?" his voice hitched and Scott definitely knew now he was officially eavesdropping on a conversation he shouldn't be eavesdropping on. He decided to let Mr. Stilinski talk to Stiles in private. He jumped off the roof and ran until he didn't hear Mr. Stilinski anymore

* * *

 

3 months 1 week ago.

He didn't dare move. The pain it caused was too much for him. Even the tiniest of movements caused him a world of pain. The only times he moved was for food/water and to get rid of the food/water. Both were incredibly painful processes. When he wasn't doing either of those he leaned against a wall, not having enough energy to keep himself sitting up for long periods of time. The darkness surrounded him, but even through the darkness he looked at a section of the wall.

He kept staring at a certain spot on the wall, The weak teen had written something on there back when he was strong, back when the pain wasn't so bad. He liked to look at it because it gave him hope, even though he couldn't actually read it except for when the light was on. Which was when he was being hurt, still he knew it was there and what it said without being able to actually read.

The door crept open and tears filled his eyes. No. why couldn't they just leave him alone. He had begged. He had pleaded. He had apologized. The teen would do anything for them to just stop, and had told them so but they wouldn't.

It was Whips. he saw her even through his tears, she was here. She looked a little bit like Scott's mom, only she was younger and her face was fatter. She sounded nothing like Scott's mom though.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Teen Wolf.

_He was standing on one side of a door. he knew Stiles was on the other side of that door and he was hurt. He opened the door and the sight that met his eyes was something he would never forget, and would always want to. The coppery smell of blood hung in the air. Some of the blood was old, a lot wasn't, but all of it was Stiles's. He looked over at Stiles and saw him covered in dried blood, and bruises and wearing nothing. Something on the wall caught his attention. There were letters, it took a bit of working out to figure out what it said, but the message was heartbreaking._

_Dad will save me_

_Scott will save me_

_Scott and Dad will save me._

_I'll be home soon._

Scott shot up in bed and looked around for Stiles to assure himself that it was in the past, that Stiles wasn't still suffering. He couldn't see him, his hands fumbled as he took out his phone and found the picture of him he had snapped a day or two ago. It wasn't enough though, he needed to see Stiles, to see with his own eyes that he was fine. Which was why he kept watch over him even while he supposed to be sleeping, actually, especially when he was supposed to be sleeping, because whenever he went to sleep he seemed to have that dream.

He got dressed and headed out in the night, he was at on Stiles's roof in minutes. He caught a quick peek Stiles just enough to assure him that Stiles was fine and that he could push back the feeling of guilt again for a little bit. He could tell his mother and she'd probably let him stay in Stiles's room again, but he didn't want her to have to know how much he had failed Stiles. He didn't want anyone to know.

* * *

3 months ago

* * *

"You know, I would have thought that someone would have come around by now, at least asking about you. But no one has, and it's been a month now. It looks like you're the opposite of clairvoyant," Bruiser said pointing the wall which Stiles had written the words "Nobody cares. No one's even looked for you, we should have taken that McCall kid, I bet someone would have kicked up a fuss for him. Still, good for us."

He punched his shoulder hard and since it still had fresh slices on it from Cutter, it hurt that much more. Moisture spilled from his eyes, but he bit his lip tightly to prevent any sound from escaping. Bruiser was wrong. They were coming. They would save him. He could see the words now in the light, he really wanted to believe them... it just was getting a bit harder as time went on. Had it really been a month? He had hoped it had just seemed long, but it hadn't been that long had it? Another punch to his chest. Stiles bit his lip hard in a different place as the one he had used last he had bit through. His mouth was littered with wounds like that.

Another punch to the chest, then a hard kick to the leg, a really really hard kick. The pain was so much worse than anything before. It was so bad that couldn't help but cry out. Tears fell rapidly down his face. It hurt! It hurt so bad!

Bruiser handled his leg roughly and pain ran through him like lighting. The brunette bit his lip hard trying to avoid sobbing, but the agony in his leg was so much. So much pain, too much to handle. Stiles faded quickly into darkness.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Teen Wolf

Scott kept pretending to go sleep at night and making it back in his bed minutes before his mother would check on him. It made him pretty tired. Scott had trouble staying awake in class, and focusing on class was pretty much impossible. Scott kept on falling asleep on Stiles's roof, and had actually brought a rope to tie himself to the roof so that he wouldn't fall onto the ground accidentally. Right now it was raining. Pouring actually and his jeans below his coat were soaked, but Scott wasn't going home. He needed to make sure Stiles was okay.

Scott jolted up as he heard a sound. There was something on the ground, something moving. He got to his feet, disconnected himself from the roof and looked down. Scott frowned, Derek was there. This was not the place to ambush him. He leaped off the roof onto the ground, grabbed Derek and smashed him against a tree. Derek's eyes went alpha red in under a second and Scott followed suit.

"What are you doing here?" he growled lowly.

"I'm here to see Stiles."

"Why?" he growled.

"Because I want to." Scott hit him against the tree again.

"Why," he growled louder. "You've been nothing but a jerk to him since you've known him."

"He saved my life remember. Held me up in a pool for two hours until we both nearly drowned." Scott winced with guilt, Stiles had texted him and he had ignored it. He released his grip on Derek but didn't step away.

"Issac said you wanted to talk to me."

"I do, but right now I want to talk to Stiles."

"Stiles isn't really talking to anyone at the moment," Scott said sadly.

"Yeah, I know, Isaac said."

"I don't understand you," Scott thought aloud.

"Yeah, well, I'm a complex guy," Derek said then leaped up onto the roof, Scott leaped up after him. Derek jumped into Stiles's room and Scott followed him.

"I don't trust you," He said to Derek's expression.

"Fine," Derek said. His eyes took in Stiles and his body's state of healing. Scott watched Derek's face as he took Stiles in. He was unable to tell what Derek was thinking.

"Humans had him," it wasn't a question, but Scott answered anyways.

"Yeah."

"What happened to the humans who had him?"

"They didn't make it," Scott said he wasn't sure, but Derek's face looked like he approved.

* * *

2 months 3 weeks ago.

* * *

His leg was definitely broken and he had no idea how he was supposed to fix it. He remembered some first aid stuff, but the stuff about broken bones was really fuzzy. He learned something about it way back when he had boy scouts, but his mother had died and he had stopped going. No, no the last thing he wanted to be thinking about at the moment was his mother's death. Especially with his already severely deflated mood of the late.

He looked at the spot on the wall again. If they were telling the truth it had been more than a month now, and they still hadn't found him. They were looking. They had to be looking. They would find him... only he wasn't sure anymore. What if they couldn't find him? What if they didn't want to find him? What if they decided he was too annoying to want around anymore, and it was good that he had been kidnaped? Kidnapper lied to kept you down, to kept you from fighting. But he hadn't fought in a few weeks now, what would the purpose of lying now be?

The door opened and dog food was slide across the floor complete with dog bowl. He would have never eaten it before, but he wasn't really above it at the moment. Not when his stomach growled so loud, not when he hadn't been feed for awhile and he needed anything to keep going, to live until he was rescued. He moved inch by inch to the bowl. Stiles moved slowly because it hurt so much to move even a little, especially moving his most likely broken leg. He was glad for the first time he only had boxers on. The rest of his clothes having taken away either as punishment or to allow better access to his battered body. At least with no clothes there was nothing to catch on.

Having made his way to the bowl, he put his hand in it and swirled it around. It was necessary because once before they had put small rocks in it which had cracked his tooth. It was still causing him pain but added to all the other wounds, it was only one instrument in a symphony of pain. Having found nothing dangerous in his food, he started eating it. Dry dog food. He never thought he would enjoy eating dry dog food. In very little time, he ate what little there was and looked carefully for any morsel he might have missed and found none. He sighed and scooted backward again until he was against the wall. He didn't have much time now, soon someone would show up. They liked to hurt him after they feed him. The door opened and Stiles looked up into Whips eyes, she smiled her terrifying smile.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Teen Wolf. Which is probably a good thing since I tend to torture my favorite characters.

 

Before

* * *

The door squeaked open. Stiles opened his eyes - or tried to- but his left eyes was swollen shut. However, he got a good enough view of who was coming in. It was her. It was Whips. He did his best not make a sound even though all he wanted to do at the moment was cry loudly. He laid on the floor with his back facing the air, because if he did it for them instead of forcing her to move him it usually was shorter. The same went for if he was silent throughout it. The whole being silent thing was hard, not because he had the urge to talk because he didn't really anymore. He bit his lip hard enough to make his lip start bleeding again just so he wouldn't make it worse.

* * *

Now

* * *

Derek's eyes kept taking Stiles in and the older werewolf didn't talk for awhile, he just seemed to look at Stiles intensely, not that he ever looked any different.

"Stiles," Derek said softly. Scott looked at him, he didn't understand Derek but maybe he really did have a heart somewhere beneath his hard exterior. If anyone could manage to slide in that hard exterior it was Stiles. Stiles just had that way about him, even if you found him annoying, you couldn't help but like him. Or at least he had until he had been stolen. All that was left now was a blank staring Stiles.

"Stiles," Derek said a little louder this time, obviously trying to talk to Stiles. Scott didn't say anything. Issac must have had told him that Stiles was unresponsive, this must be his attempt to reach Stiles. Even if Isaac hadn't told him, he wasn't going to tell him until he was sure it wouldn't break him out of it.

"Stiles?" Derek said a little louder. No change.

"Stiles!" He shushed him then, Mr. Stilinski was sleeping just a few rooms away.

"What happened to him?" Derek demanded as he turned around to face him.

"Nothing good," Scott said shortly, not sure if he could actually say the words aloud. Derek turned back and looked at Stiles.

"This never should have happened," Derek muttered low enough that Scott even with his wolf hearing barely heard it. He turned around and went for the window.

"You should sign his cast," Scott blurted. Derek turned around and looked at him.

"Stiles would like it," Scott added. Derek stood there a very long moment then came towards him and asked.

"You have a marker?" he put his hand out. Scott handed him a marker and watched Derek sign his name of his casts. He handed him back the marker.

"You happy?" Derek asked.

"I won't be happy until Stiles is back." Scott said, Derek look up at Stiles and nodded slightly. He went back to the window and jumped out of it. Scott went the window and watched as Derek took off. He turned back to Stiles.

"See even Derek wants you to come back buddy," still no response.

* * *

****


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Teen Wolf.

Before

They sliced. They whipped. They hit. Nothing changed. Nothing ever changed. The pain was always there and it never went away; sometimes it got minutely better but it never ended. Hours, days all started faded together.

 How long had he been here? Who had last come in? Both questions he didn't know the answers to. His hope of ever being rescued seemed laughable now, but he didn't laugh. He hadn't in so long he had nearly forgotten what it sounded like when it wasn't coming from the vicious siblings. He was going to stay here in pain for the rest of his life, which by now he hoped wouldn't be much longer. He just wanted the pain to end, for it all to finally be over.

Now

_He walked into the house, he had given McCall as much time as he could stand. The house looked ordinary, like any other house, but it wasn't. It was_ _the place where_ _people were keeping his son away from him. He walked down the hall and came into a kitchen area. He tensed as he saw streaks of blood on the white walls of the kitchen. Was it Stiles_ _'s?_ _Was it Scott's?_

_He tightened the grip on his gun as he continued walking a few more steps and he saw a body. He looked just long enough to make sure it wasn't Scott or Stiles then continued on. He went into another hallway and saw another body in the way. It was a guy, but he was sure it wasn't Stiles or Scott. He walked over him and found another body less than 2 feet away. This one was harder to tell so he started panicking. He rolled the body over and stared down into the dead eyes of one of the three siblings who had kidnapped his son. He's body was slashed in several places, he couldn't find it in himself to have any pity for him._

_He kept on walking; all three of them were dead and he was perfectly okay with that. He came to a stair ase that went both up and down. He heard some soft barely discernible sounds coming from below, so that was the way that he went. There was only one door at the bottom. The door opened and Scott was in front of him suddenly._

_"Where's Stiles?" he asked. Scott looked at him and he knew instantly it was bad._

_"Is he in there?" he asked._

_"You don't want to see him," Scott stated with a small shake of his head._

_"He's my son," he reached around Scott for the door knob and Scott moved in the way again._

_"Mr. Stilinski trust me you don't want to see him like this," Scott spoke earnestly. Greg swallowed, no he didn't, but Stiles was his son and he needed to._

_"Scott step out of the way."_

_"Mr. Stilinski?" he begged._

_"Scott." he swallowed hard "I need to see my son." Scott reluctantly moved out of the way. He opened the door and his heart plummeted into his stomach. No...no this couldn't be real. The sight that met his eyes was nothing short of horrific. Blood stained floor surrounded a figure that only barely looked like his son. His son was way too skinny and covered head to toe in bruises, cuts and scars._

Greg woke up with a start. He'd been having that dream a lot lately. He made his way out of bed and down the hall to Stiles's room and sat in the chair by Stiles's bed. He scanned Stiles's form.  Not much had changed in the past almost 3 weeks. Stiles was still staring at the wall, he still had to feed him through a feeding tube. The only good news was that at least the wounds were mostly healed now.  The scars however were more prominent now. He didn't like looking at the scars because they reminded him of how had he failed so much as a father and that he hadn't protected his son.

"Stiles?" he asked. Stiles didn't react at all, he never did, in all these late night conversations he had with Stiles.

"Stiles?" he asked again.

"I'm so sorry Stiles, I'm your father I'm supposed to protect you." he had said it before many times to Stiles, but it didn't make him feel any better so he kept saying it hoping one day it would.

"Please you need to come back," he asked for what was probably the hundredth time. Stiles said nothing back.

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Teen Wolf.

**Now**

* * *

It had been 3 weeks now since they had brought Stiles home and there was still no change. Every day was the same. Scott stayed on the Stilinski's roof all night, his cell phone woke him up in the morning and he was back to bed 5 minutes before his mom came to wake him up.

He would then get dressed and make his way to school. During school he got very little of what was being taught, due to exhaustion and disinterest. In fac,t any time the lights went off for any reason he found it impossible to keep his eyes open and had fallen asleep in several classes. When his teachers or other students woke him up they weren't angry, they just held pity in their eyes.

He ate lunch every day with Lydia and Jackson. Mostly it was just he and Lydia or Jackson and Lydia who talked to each other. Scott and Jackson just tolerated the others presence.

After lunch, it was even harder to focus because he knew that soon he would be able to see Stiles again. He would be able to see a physical reminder that he was back and safe now. As soon as the final bell rang Scott would be out of there and by Stiles bedside as quickly as possible. Stiles on the other hand would just stare, stare and stare until Scott had to go home, then the day would start all over again.

At the moment, he was at the part of his day when he would try to get Stiles to communicate and Stiles wouldn't say or do anything. He was started to lose hope that Stiles would ever respond to him, that his friends eyes would remain forever unfocused on anything but a spot on the wall.

"So Stiles, you know you gotta move. Just a finger or a toe, just to show me you're in there. Something, anything. You just got to show me you're in there. Please Stiles, I have to know. I need to know that I didn't fail you completely, that there's something of you still in there," He had said this speech albeit slightly varied every day. Stiles just kept staring at the wall. Scott grabbed his hand. Physical contact had when they initially rescued him seemed to help him jump out of his head. However in the three weeks since he had been back the several times he had tried it hadn't yielded any results.

"Stiles please," he begged him again. "I need you back here with me, please," Scott was staring at Stiles when Stiles blinked, then blinked again a few times in a way that was definitely not usual -well not usual for the last 3 weeks.

"Stiles?" another quick session of blinks. "Stiles?" Stiles's eyes moved from the wall to look around the room then settled on him. Could it be? Was Stiles actually responding after all this time?

"Stiles, can you hear me?" Stiles didn't say anything, but he kept looking at him. Scott moved a little bit and Stiles's eyes kept tracking his movements.

"Stiles? It's okay. You're home now, you're safe now," Stiles's eyes which used to be expressive didn't show any feelings, but as Scott moved again Stiles's eyes tracked him again.

"Stiles, do you understand me?" Scott asked. Stiles stared at him intensely for awhile, so long that he thought his face was just the new place Stiles had decided to stare, then Stiles nodded very slowly. Scott's heart rose. Stiles was back.

* * *

**Before**

* * *

After so many days of pain, pain that defied any description he could give it, Stiles was able to withdraw into himself to protect himself from the worldly pain. Things were peaceful. There was no pain there. Even though distantly he knew his body was still being hurt, the pain didn't reach him there. He was surrounded in a warm place full of light, where nothing could hurt him and he was at peace.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't want to raise your hopes like I raised Scott's. Stiles is not magically fixed, even if he is no longer buried deep inside himself.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf.

 

**One week ago**

* * *

He was embedded in a cocoon of peace and light, where there was nothing but peace and happiness and warmth. Only, a little while ago, little tears started showing up in his cocoon of peace. There was darkness in the holes and he tried to go further into the cocoon and that had worked for awhile, but eventually the darkness closed in and became bigger. Stiles tried to stay in the light and peace but eventually the darkness was too large not to fall into. He fell into the darkness, the coldness. The darkness took away his peace.

* * *

Now.

* * *

He had been safe. He had been happy and now he was here, stuck in this horrible place. Everyone had seemed happy about it. Happy that they had sucked him out of his place and into this crappy world full of reminders and nightmares.

"Stiles," Stiles looked up slowly at his Dad whose face hadn't changed at all. He still had that guilty look that also was laced with pity and concern.

"Stiles you've got to eat something," Stiles looked down at the bowl of cereal his Dad had given him. He didn't want to eat it. It didn't taste good. Nothing did anymore. Of course, his Dad had threatened him last night that if he didn't start eating the feeding tube was going back in. Stiles picked up his spoon again and put it in his cereal and brought it up to his lips. He no longer seemed to like cocoa puffs. He put the chocolate cereal in his mouth anyways and chewed it slowly, it didn't taste good. All he had to do was eat until his Dad left for work. His Dad had gotten a desk job, a boring desk job.

His knew his father didn't want to work, didn't want to leave him but they needed money to keep the house, and he knew his father felt guilty about leaving. Before Stiles would have assured him he was fine even if he was lying, for some reason he didn't feel like doing the same now. All he wanted was his father to leave the house so he could stop eating.

"Alright, I'll be home soon and Scott will be over after school, don't cause any trouble until then." Stiles looked at him but didn't say anything. His father sighed and left the room. Stiles listened as his father left the house. As soon as he shut the front door, Stiles spit it out. He took his bowl and went to sink and dumped all of it's contents into the sink. He put the bowl in the sink.

He grabbed his crutches but didn't use them as he made his way up to his room. He had to use them when his father was around because if he didn't he'd get this heartbroken look, but Stiles preferred not to use the crutches. He preferred the jolt of pain he felt whenever he took a step. It gave him something else to focus on.

Stiles having made his way to his room put his crutches against his desk and sat at it. He looked at the time. Scott was at school. Stiles should be at school now too, only since he hadn't in school for 5 months although a good part of the five months had been through summer break, he still needed to catch up before he would be put into school again. He had absolutely no desire to go back to school, absolutely no desire to learn or to be around other people. Being around his father and Scott was hard enough when he felt so weak, so desperately empty inside.

The work itself he didn't mind. He spent most of the time his father and Scott were gone doing work. At his pace, he was caught up in a week but every time Scott or his Dad asked how the studying was going he just shrugged. He left a bookmark in his book far back from where he actually was. If they knew how close he was there would be talks about putting him back in school. It hard enough just being around Scott and his Dad, having more people stare at him like he was a freak would be too much. So he kept it to himself.

The door to his house opened a few hours later. It was too early for it to be his Dad so that only left Scott. He barely resisted the temptation to hit himself in the head with his textbook which he was now ahead of his class in. He heard Scott as he started walking up the stairs towards his room. Stiles shut the textbook and put some papers over it. He then just stared at his desk until the door opened. Scott came in and sat down on a chair in front of him.

Scott was supposed to be his best friend, but best friends don't rip best friends from peace so he wasn't exactly happy with him. But no matter how many times Stiles had told him to go away either by body language or other means Scott just kept coming back and staying with him until his Dad came home.

"How are you doing Stiles?" and he always asked that damn question! Stiles purposely didn't look at him at all. Scott sighed.

"Stiles, why won't you just tell me why you won't talk to me or anyone for that matter?" he hadn't spoken a single word since being ripped out of peace. He had no desire to speak to those that ripped him from his peace. Not to mention he couldn't talk at all. He had tried a few times in his room when he was completely alone, but no sounds had come out. Every time he woke from a nightmare, which was every time he tried to sleep, when he should have screamed he always woke up with no sounds coming out of his mouth.

"You know you're the one who's supposed to be filling up the silence not me," Stiles rolled his eyes. They kept saying things like this too, like they expected him to be exactly who he was before. They didn't seem to get that he wasn't that Stiles anymore.

"Stiles I wish you would talk to me, say anything," Stiles stared resolutely down at his desk. Before this would have bothered him seeing Scott trying so hard and still turning him down, it didn't now. He felt empty, numb.

"Stiles please," and Scott kept interrupting his thoughts as well. Stiles looked up from the desk at Scott right in the eyes glaring at him. Scott looked at him with exactly the same look his Dad had, the same look everyone had every time they came to see him, only Scott and his Dad had more guilt in their gaze.

"Stiles," he couldn't take it anymore. If pattern followed someone in the pack and or Lydia would come over and stare at him uncomfortably for a few minutes before making some lame excuse to leave. He really didn't want to that again today.

He got up from his desk and made his way into the bathroom where he locked the door and sat against it. He stared at the blue tiled bathroom floor. Stiles ran his hand over the surface lightly again and again. A few minutes later from the outside of the door again came Scott voice. His annoying grating voice.

"Stiles come on, please come out," He wasn't going to come out. Stiles was tired, he wanted to rest and they were constantly interrupting his thoughts. They may not always be pleasant thoughts, in fact they rarely were, but they were his thoughts dammit!

"Stiles please," Stiles opened his mouth to tell him to shut up and to go away, only to remember that he couldn't seem to speak. Instead, he threw his head lightly against the door in frustration. A slight pain rang through this head. It was kind of nice, it was distracting.

"Stiles," there Scott's voice came again, chasing anyway any pleasant thoughts he managed to gather. Stiles got an idea. He couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it earlier. He grabbed his cell phone from his pocket, which he kept there more out of practice than anything since he couldn't actually talk. Stiles send Scott a text message.

_Go away_

"Why won't you talk to me?" Scott asked through the door after a long moment. Stiles stared back at his cell phone. He could tell him the truth, but he didn't want anyone to know what he had gone through. There was still a small, a very small part but still there enough to not want to tell Scott that he had taken him away from peace. So all he wrote was.

_Go away_

_"_ Stiles, I'm not leaving you," Scott said. Stiles closed his eyes tightly then opened them back again as memories flowed again. That's why he couldn't sleep either. Every time he closed his eyes the memories came. Stiles would have felt comfort before with Scott being there with him, but all he felt now was empty, hollow and full of fear. If Scott wouldn't leave, that he would just have to do his best to block him out, and he did his best to do that for the rest of the day.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you order your chapter heavy on the angst? If so I've got it hot and ready for you.

 

Stiles's eyelids felt like they were made of lead. Which was why they kept sliding closed again and again. He blinked a few times then went back to the math problem. He had never really been a fan of math before in his life. But now math, math was simple, in that there was only numbers. no ideas, just numbers and there was something about there only being right answers and wrong ones that was so definite.

He supposed he should be asleep, it was after midnight after all. How much after midnight it was he didn't know having turned his red glaring alarm clock towards the wall. He couldn't sleep though...no that wasn't quite correct, he wouldn't' sleep. He was pretty sure he could from the way his eyes kept closing. He didn't want to sleep because they were always there in his dreams and he didn't want to see them.

Stiles took another handful of caffeine pills, and dry swallowed them, he was popping them like they were candy. It wasn't good for him, he knew that, but honestly didn't care. He hadn't slept more than 2 hours a night since he had been able to sneak out and buy himself caffeine pills his first week back in this stupid world. He looked at the bottle and shook it. The teen was going to have to sneak out soon again and buy himself some more caffeine pills.

Since he was on the train of thought of things that were bad for him, he thought of some other things he was doing that was bad for him. Stiles was only eating the bare minimum of what he had to and had gotten experienced on ways to hide what he wasn't eating. It was easy in the morning because his father had to leave and Stiles could usually throw out something he had only taken a few bites of. It was harder at dinner time because both Scott and his Dad both watched him like a hawk and so he had to come up with other ways to hide it. Yeah it wasn't good for him, he knew that, and his body was weaker than it used to be, but he didn't care. Food smelt terrible, and food tasted terrible in a way it had never had before.

He heard the window open and someone coming in. Stiles schooled his features and looked up, he fully expected to see Scott standing there looking at him disapprovingly and was surprised to see Derek standing there instead. He hadn't seen Derek since waking up, though Scott had told him that he had come while he had been away and had pointed out Derek's signature on his cast. Stiles just stared at Derek who stared back at him. No one talked for a long moment. Stiles knew that he usually started the conversations, but he wasn't going to now, he didn't want to talk to anyone.

"Stiles," Derek said. Stiles merely looked at him. Most people found it unnerving and would leave him be soon after, he wasn't sure how well it would work on Derek who had mastered the stare as well.

"Shouldn't you be asleep?" Stiles rolled his eyes, like Derek had ever cared about his well being before. He didn't have Derek cell phone number so couldn't text him so he just pointed to his math book.

"You're not in school yet, Issac told me," Derek said. Stiles slide his notebook that he had been writing his in to himself and went to a blank sheet of paper. Stiles tore the sheet out of his notebook. He wrote down

 _I know but I have to get caught up before I go back to school_ and showed it to Derek who looked at it with his stoic gaze.

"He also said you weren't talking," Stiles rolled his eyes again, since when did Derek care about him? He flipped the sheet over and wrote.

 _Laryngitis, since when did you care?_ Stiles flipped up the sheet so that Derek could read it. Derek looked at him and then down to the ground and Stiles knew he struck a nerve. Derek liked to pretend that he didn't care at all about anyone. Stiles hid a smile he knew how to make him go away. He tore out a fresh sheet of paper.

 _Maybe since you're here anyways and in the sharing and caring mood we can hug, then hold hands and sing kumbaya._ Stiles held up the paper hoping that he had made his point very clear. When Derek read his note he looked decidedly a little uncomfortable, but surprisingly his feet stayed put. Maybe Derek thought Stiles actually wanted to do what he had written. Stiles needed to make it more clear, underneath his other statement he wrote.

 _Go away Derek I'm not in the mood for visitors._ There was no way to mistake this for anything other than what it was. Still, even after Derek's eyes finished scanning it he made no indication that he was planning on moving.

 _I mean it Derek get out ,_ he wrote and showed it to Derek who again who still didn't look like he was planning to move. Stiles smiled grimly, fine if he wanted to play it like that. He wrote.

 _Or I guess if you want to stay we can share our feelings. You start. How did it feel when your uncle Peter killed your sister?_ Derek eyes took in his written words and then he glared at him, his eyes going alpha red. Yeah, what Stiles had written was below the belt but he didn't care. Besides, he had asked him nicely to go away first.

Stiles ideally wondered why he wasn't scared. Derek could rip his throat out and it was possible he might after what he had said to him, but he had said it anyways. Stiles realized in that moment he didn't care. He didn't care if Derek ripped his throat out, at least it would end it all.

Derek in response merely turned his back and left through the window. Stiles stared after him for a long moment wondering if maybe he wanted Derek to tear his throat out or if had just wanted him to leave. Stiles shook his head. It didn't matter, nothing did anymore. He got back to his math.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf.

Scott looked down at his cell phone seemingly unimpressed.

"Nice one there, a real zinger," Scott said he tried to hide how hurt the comment made him but he wasn't able to. Stiles should feel bad, he knew he should. Scott was his best friend, it should make him feel bad knowing the kind of stuff he had said to him, but he didn't, he was only mad. Why wouldn't Scott just leave him alone everyone else had? Well except for his Dad.

He had taken his idea with Derek and brought into use with the all the people who kept coming over and staring at him. Jackson had been the easiest, all he had to do was ask him to stop coming and he did. He hadn't even had to bring out the big guns. With Alison, and Lydia he did and it had had the desired effect, they no longer came over. All he had to deal with his Dad and Scott.

Stiles stared at the ceiling now going with ignoring, since scaring him off hadn't worked, yet again. It would only be a few more hours until Scott had to go home. Although, in another hour, his dad would be home and he'd have to deal with the two of them until they finally left him alone. He hated these hours where they would sit there and try to connect with him. He really hated it. He heard someone ring the doorbell and frowned. He had chased Derek, Lydia, Alison, and Jackson away. Who was left? It could be any of the betas or maybe Danny.

"I'll go get it," Scott said after a long moment and Stiles just kept staring at the ceiling. He was only to be alone just for a few minutes, but he enjoyed it until he two sets of footsteps came to a stop. He didn't look towards the door not caring who was there.

"Stiles, Issac's here," Stiles gave no indication that he had heard him and continued staring at the ceiling.

"Stiles?" Scott tried again. "You sure you want to talk to him?" he asked Issac quietly. Stiles didn't hear a response.

"Alright I'll be downstairs, call me if you need anything and Stiles could you...you know not a jerk to Issac," Stiles gave no sign that heard him, and then heard footsteps heading towards the door and then it closing.

"Stiles," Issac said and Stiles ignored him. "Stiles," he said again and this time he decided to respond. He always went with the nice answer first, maybe Issac would heed it before he went not so nice. Stiles grabbed his notebook that was beside him and wrote.

 _Issac I don't want to talk to you go away_. Stiles lifted up the page so that Issac could see it, but didn't look at him. He didn't hear any footsteps and knew that Issac wasn't leaving.

 _You heard Scott Isaac, if you don't leave I'm going to get mean,_  he wrote and lifted it up as well still staring at the ceiling. Still no footsteps.

"I understand," Issac said then paused. "I understand wanting to push people away." he said. "You know my past with my Dad, you know what he did to me." Stiles did and he took a deep breath in, but continued to ignore him. "I know what it's like to want to push people away. For me, I didn't want to admit how weak I was. How I let my father hurt me to not fight back." Stiles could hear the emotion in his voice, he was close to crying but Stiles still ignored it. Isaac took a deep breath and then his voice was steadier. "I understand that. But what you have to understand is that they stay away. You push them away enough they'll stay away. I had friends before my Dad started hurting me and I pushed them away, and when I really needed them they weren't there for me. Don't make the same mistake." Stiles considered Issac's words for a few moments and then wrote something on his notebook and lifted it up.

 _I don't need anyone. I just want to be left alone._ There were a few moments of silence.

"Then you will be," Issac said and then his footsteps started moving away from him quickly. Stiles stared at the ceiling and shook his head, he didn't need anyone. He didn't want anyone and if they all left him he wouldn't miss them. All he wanted was to be left alone, and for the pain to go away. He heard steps coming toward him again and he wondered if Issac forgot something.

"Stiles, what did you say to him?" Stiles wrote something on a piece of paper before got up from the bed and pressed the paper into Scott's chest. From there he made his way to the bathroom again and closed and locked it. On the other side of the door Scott took the paper from the chest and looked at what it said.

_Leave me alone_


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Teen Wolf which is probably a good thing seeing as how I love to torture/break down my favorite characters.
> 
>  
> 
> Some of the warnings are now coming into effect.

 

_The door squeaked open. The injured teen opened his eyes, or at least he tried to, but his left eye was swollen shut. However, he still got a good enough view of who was coming in. It was her. He did his best not make a sound, even though all he wanted to do at the moment was cry out loudly. He laid on the floor with his back facing the air, because if he did it for her instead of forcing her to move him it usually was shorter, the same went for if he was silent throughout it. The whole being silent thing was hard not because he had the urge to talk because he didn't really anymore. The hard thing was he had to bit his lip hard enough to make his lip start bleeding just he wouldn't make it worse._

Stiles shot up a silent scream roaring from his still throat. He looked around the room quickly and reassured himself that he wasn't there any longer. That they were no longer hurting him, even though they have left him damaged, so very damaged. Stiles squeezed his eyes tightly. Against the silent tears. He hated himself, he hated himself for being so weak, so damn weak.

He got out of bed and started to make his way to the bathroom. He didn't take his crutches, he never did unless they were staring at him. Stiles noticed on the way that his leg didn't hurt anymore when he walked on it. The teen pressed his leg down heavily to the ground and it felt fine. No. He felt his arm it was fine too. Great, even that consistency was gone. He made it to the bathroom where he promptly threw up. His dad had made his eat yesterday while he watched, apparently he had noticed that he hadn't been eating much lately. He actually thought the food was going to stay down, of course that was before the nightmares. Which was why he didn't like eating, whenever he woke up he felt like throwing up. After throwing up, he cupped his hands under the sink and filled them with water which he tilted into his mouth and swished around and then spit into the sink.

He caught his reflection in the mirror and stared at himself. He looked a little thinner, he guessed and there were few light scars. Cutter had usually stayed away from his head, he said the head wounds bled a lot and wanted to earn the blood. The teen stared at his face, he scowled at his image. How was it that after everything he looked the same as before? Surely something should have changed on the outside to show the change inside him. But he looked the same. Anger grew in him, how could he have not changed!

He slammed his fist into the mirror. The mirror cracked a few pieces falling into the sink the rest stubbornly stayed. He looked at himself in the broken glass and that's exactly how he felt. He felt broken, shattered.

Only something was different now... the pain, the inner pain was receding a bit. Why was that? He looked at his fist, one of his knuckles had a big piece of glass embedded in it.

It hurt. He stared at his fist in fascination, the feeling it brought him it was the closest to the peaceful place he had been. Ever since was torn away from it by his so called friends and family, he had wanted it back.

He used his other hand to touch the glass in his injured hand, and pulled the glass out. When he pulled the piece out the pain ratcheted up, only, this pain was different. It wasn't the kind of pain they had inflicted on him, it was pain he had inflicted on himself. He was the one in control of how much pain he had felt and the pain made him feel better. He had to make sure. He rolled down his long sleeves and exposed a section of scars. He would be making his scars this time, not somebody else. That give him a feeling of power, of being able to take something back. He dragged the broken glass over his skin and reveled in it, he was in control and it felt great.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I do not recommend self-injury to anyone.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf.
> 
> A/N: Again I don't recommend self-injury.

Stiles woke up and everything felt slightly better today after last night. He even managed to fake a smile on his face. He had control now. He made the scars now. He wasn't all the way better, but he had control. He could handle it, which meant he would be able to fake it better than he had up to this point. Fake that he didn't hate them for taking away his peace. He got out of bed and made his way down the stairs and saw his Dad who stared at him intensely. Why was he staring at him?

"Stiles, are you smiling?" his Dad asked confused but hopeful and Stiles nodded. His Dad smiled as well and Stiles knew that he was pulling it off. He sat down at the table. He didn't want to eat, but his Dad would be gone before he got too far into his meal. He could choke down a few bites. Stiles put the chocolaty cereal in his mouth and chewed it softly. It still taste like ash, but he was more able to pretend like it tasted good. He nodded his head as he ate like it tasted good which it didn't. His Dad looked at him dumbfounded. Stiles took his phone and texted his father.

 _I'm sorry_  ,he wrote out and showed it to his Dad. He knew he should be sorry, and a small sliver or him that was reactivated by last night activities was sorry. His Dad smiled at him, but it looked strained and part of him actually cared that he had hurt his father with the things which he had said. He didn't like this feeling and he wanted for it to go away. Stiles used his other arm to feel where he had made the cut and pressed down on it. The feeling of pain rushed back along with the peaceful feelings.

"I have to go to work, we'll talk about it when I get home okay." Stiles nodded still happy with the pain. His father got up from the table and left the room. Stiles felt ridiculously happy until his father came back into the room again.

"Stiles, what happened to your mirror?" that took a little of his buzz off as he worried that his Dad would find out about it and take it away from him. Then he remembered that he had cleaned it up last night. Stiles took out his phone and texted him. "You fell into because you were lightheaded coming out of the shower?" his dad asked him Stiles shrugged.

"Alright, you've got eat more." Stiles shrugged again like he was agreeing. He would eat if he had to. His new method for coping was worth having to shove more food into himself. To show that he was trying, he shoveled in a few more mouthfuls of his cereal then he usually tried to. His Dad nodded and said.

"I got to go Stiles, but there's something that we have to talk about tonight okay? So when I get off of work we're going to talk." Stiles nodded. He didn't want to talk. He didn't want to do anything, but he would to keep his Dad from finding out about it and taking it away from him.

"Good," his Dad said then nodded and left the room. Stiles waited until five minutes after he heard the car pulling away before emptying out his bowl in the sink and rinsing it out. Everything was going to better now, it had to be.

* * *

Stiles did his best to interact with Scott when he came over, even though all he wanted to do was curl up into a ball and be left alone. Scott had even smiled before he had left and he had left early. Stiles realized should have started pretending much much earlier. He was able to have a whole hour to himself when his dad had come home early.

"Stiles we need to talk," he had called from the other side of his shut door. His Dad opened the door and sat down on his bed next to him.

"You've already missed too much school and I told them that you aren't ready to go back yet, but they think... well their shrinks say that it'll be good for you for things to go back to normal." Stiles frowned confused. What was his father talking about?

"They're making you go back to school." Stiles looked down at the ground and nodded. He knew that it would happen eventually. Although it was the last place he wanted to be, with all the people and the touching and talking. Stiles just hoped that his new method of coping would get him through the day.

"If you not ready we can do homeschooling," On the surface that seemed like a better idea. But he'd rather spend 8 hours at school with strangers than the same amount of time around his Dad and Scott and whoever they'd try to get to watch him. He shook his head and grabbed his cell phone and texted his Dad.

 _No, I'll go to school._ His dad looked at him incredulously.

"Are you sure?" he asked concerned. "I mean just yesterday you..." he trailed off. Stiles nodded he knew what he had done yesterday. He had been constantly hurling insults at him trying to get him to stop talking to him.

 _I'm sorry for all the crap I've been throwing at you lately._  he texted even though he didn't really mean it. He wasn't really sorry. Except for the small part of him that was easily sated by the pain he still hated them for taking him away from peace. However, he had found a new peace and to keep it he was going to have to pretend like everything was okay. Or at least that he was able to function like a fairly normal human being. That unfortunately meant school, so that was what he was going to do, and hopeful his secret would get him through it.

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Teen Wolf

His father didn't exactly accept his new attitude as easily as Scott had. He figured that was because Scott had just been happy to have Stiles back, but his father was a cop and had instincts that something was still wrong with him. Hopefully, he would be able to shut those cop instincts down in time.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" his father asked him again. Stiles was in the passenger's seat of his Dad's vehicle and staring at the school again. He didn't want to be there. Kids were going to stare. Kids we're going to ask him questions and they were going to stare even more when they figured out that Stiles couldn't talk to them. He had tried again that morning hoping to be able to talk and make everyone less likely to stare at him, but it hadn't really worked out. He figured though he could be damaged, but still functioning well enough that everyone would back off him.

He winced as he realized since he was going to school, he was also going to have to fake make-up with everyone else. He also knew that he couldn't cause himself to bleed while he was in the class with of any of the werewolves because they would undoubtedly smell the blood. Stiles knew though what he had to do, he knew that smiling right now was not the right thing to do and would only put his Dad on notice that something was wrong.

Stiles nodded in answer to his Dad's question and opened the door. He left the car and looked at the school. The last time he was here he had been training with Scott to become a better lacrosse player. He had the memory. He remembered it clearly, yet it still seemed like that that memory had happened to another person and he just happened to have those memories.

"Stiles," he winced knowing that voice, he turned around to see Scott looking at him with concern. "Stiles are you okay?" he asked concerned. Again he knew smiling was the wrong answer and instead just nodded.

* * *

It had only been 3 hours. How had it been only been 3 hours? It had seemed like much longer, and yet he still had the same amount to go until he could go home. He was sitting down at lunch picking at his pizza, but not really eating it. He was sitting with Scott who was staring at him. Everybody stared at him. Everybody was always staring at him: students, teachers, most with pity looks on their faces. He really didn't like the stares but since he couldn't talk he couldn't really say anything about it. He heard some people sit down and winced as he saw Lydia and Jackson sit down on the left side of Scott. He really didn't want to deal with more people, especially Lydia who his words had hurt. He supposed he should say he was sorry, but at the moment all he wanted was relief. Unfortunately he couldn't, not here. He texted her.

_I'm sorry about what I said before. I was mad but what I said was uncalled for._

It was all true, except for the part that he said he was sorry for it. He saw her pick up her phone as it vibrated, read it and look at him. Honestly, he wanted her to be like he remembered her, ignoring his existence. Instead, her face softened.

"I know it must be hard going through what you went through," Stiles winced not liking the reminder and wanting nothing more then to dig something sharp into his skin, but he couldn't because Jackson, and Scott were sitting across from him. "I forgive you, but this is your one freebie, you won't get another one," Lydia said kind of snippily. It was understandable because what Stiles said about her parents, and about the fact that they were never around. Stiles nodded like he really cared that he was forgiven. After he apologized conversation resumed at the table.

Stiles noticed that Scott and Jackson never actually talked to each other, but both talked to Lydia. Sometimes they tried to keep him in the conversation by asking him questions. Mostly they just talked amongst themselves which he liked because it gave him a break.

Soon the lunch period was over and he made his way to class. The class didn't have Scott, but it had Issac and Lydia, Issac who would be able to smell it and Lydia who insisted that she sit by him. Through out the entire class period he wasn't thinking about the class he was in, he was just thinking about how much he hated werewolves. Hated the fact that their heightened sense of smell kept him away from the only thing that made him feel good anymore.

It seemed like an eternity before school let out, and even then to Stiles irritation Scott insisted on driving him home. Even afterward it was hours of Scott talking about anything and everything under the sun that had absolutely no interest to Stiles. It was a real relief when Scott finally went home, even through it was only because his father was there.

They had a very awkward dinner of pizza. Pizza used to make his mouth water but now it made his stomach roil. All food seemed to have that effect on him lately. That was probably because he threw it up nearly every night though. He had started wearing baggy, long sleeved shirts and jeans to hide the new scars and how much weight he had lost from everyone. He knew that if they knew they would try to make him eat more; which would just be even more food to throw up later. Stiles took another bite of his pizza and chewed it very slowly. He had only eaten half of his piece. Wow, was it possible he had only eaten half a piece? He had to eat at least 1 and ½ pieces. His father had told him that was how much he had to eat before he could be excused.

After Stiles's lie about the mirror, his dad brought food home every day and told him how much he had to eat before he could go back upstairs. Even after his Dad was finished with his own food, he would sit and stare at Stiles until he finished how much he was supposed to. Stiles was just glad that his Dad was a heavy sleeper and that he had never heard him at night or else he would be in deep trouble.

It took Stiles a very painful 45 minutes to eat 1 ½ pieces of pizza, all with his Dad staring at him. He had looked up tricks on how to hide it online, but he couldn't really use them with his father staring at him like that. So instead he had to eat no matter how terrible the food tasted in his mouth. He was finally excused and made his way to his room.

His dad was worried about him and so a new unwritten and unspoken rule had been established. The door to his room was to remain open until he went to sleep. This rule had been established because every time Stiles shut his door his father would open it. Stiles was pretty sure his father just wanted to see him every time he passed by his room. Stiles spent the night, until he felt tired, doing homework. In doing homework he was able to get out of himself for a little while, get his mind stuck in facts and math, and he did so until he got tired enough he put himself to bed.

_Stiles screamed in agony as Cutter sliced through the skin on his shoulder down several inches to the skin of his chest. Blood poured out of him in little streams, staining the already stained floor, and making the floor slippery; not that it mattered because he was laying down on his back._

_"Stop it! Stop it! I'm sorry! I'll do whatever you want just stop it!" The sad fact that he meant it. To end the pain he would do whatever they wanted, WHATEVER they wanted. Cutter just smiled and continued to slice into his skin all the while Stiles screamed in agony._

Stiles shot up from his bed a scream lodged in his throat. He couldn't even scream the way he wanted to. He go to his feet quickly as his stomach gave it's usual reaction to his nightmares. He hurried down the hall as quick as he could while making as little noise as possible and promptly allowed his stomach to do what it did.

After cleaning himself up he stared at himself in the new mirror that his dad had just had installed. Honestly, Stiles had been hoping it would take a long longer to fix so he wouldn't have to stare at himself in his own mirror, but stare he did. He looked at his pale, thin, gross, body that couldn't even defend itself against humans. He should have fought back instead of cowering, and just hoping that someone would be coming to rescue him. He should have rescued himself, but he had been too weak. He wanted to break the mirror again, but he knew his dad would only make him eat more, besides he had something just as good. He bent down to the bottom of the sink where he took out the item he taped under there a the day after the mirror had been fixed.

In his hand was the shard of glass from the old mirror that he had kept. It sliced into his finger just from holding it, it was wickedly sharp. Stiles grinned at the feeling of his blood dripping down his finger. He put the shard exactly where Cutter had in his nightmare, on his shoulder. The location was easy to see because of the white scar that still marred his body. Stiles brought the glass shard down on his skin and pulled it along the preexisting scar. Blood bubbled up from the cut and started flowing down his chest. He reveled in the pain of the cut and how it seemed to take away all his other pain, guilt, and sorrow. It gave him an elated feeling. Not to mention once the cut healed it would longer be Cutter's scar but his own, he grinned at his reflection.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading please let me know what you think


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf.
> 
> Warnings: still self-injury, and eating problems which still I don't recommend or encourage.

He didn't like this. He didn't like this at all. His father after giving him a week to "get adjusted" to eating dinner had told Scott about his little problem with food and Scott had stared at him until he had eaten half of his meal. It had tasted like ash going down, now it was churning in his stomach and had been doing so for ten minutes. He really really did not like this. His eyes darted around the classroom.

Only Isaac was in this class with him. His only class where he only had one of them in his class. He couldn't hold it down much longer. He quickly scribbled down something on a blank sheet of paper and made his way to the front of the classroom. He didn't like how everyone in the class was staring at him like he was some kind of freak, even though he knew he was. He held up his note to Mrs. Franklin his English teacher. Mrs. Franklin was about the same age as his Dad and wearing a dress that looked about what his grandma would have worn if she were still alive. Her eyes moved to the note in his hand and she nodded. The only good thing about this was his teachers were very accommodating now, he could leave during a test when no one else was allowed to go.

However, they had just been reading and even if he hadn't been him the freak he still probably would have been able to go. He nodded his thanks and made his way out of the room trying to go at the normal pace. However, once he was in the hall he gave up all pretense. He tried to run flat out, but apparently the lack of nutrients in his body made it incredibly difficult for him. The best he could manage was a slow jog.

 He made his way as quickly as he could into the bathroom. He checked all the stalls in the bathroom not wanting anyone to be a witness or someone who could tell on him. When he found the room was devoid of all life forms except for himself, he allowed his stomach to do what it wanted.

His head kind of swam for a moment afterwards and the dizziness brought him to his knees. Great, apparently even when he didn't have nightmares his stomach would no longer accept food. Admittedly it was probably his fault since he never ate during the day except for a few bites of cereal and then at night threw it all up. His stomach was probably programmed to throw up any significant amount of food that he ate. He had also thrown up his breakfast before Scott had come to get him this morning.

That probably wasn't good. If anyone found out about the whole food thing then it wouldn't take them long to find out about the cutting. No one could find out about the cutting because it was the only thing getting him through his day.

He wished that his body would just let him eat even though he didn't like the food. He wished he could keep it down. He was weak and sluggish all the time and had fainted once after cutting, but only for a few minutes...so it wasn't really serious. Still, if it had been any longer then his Dad could have possibly found him lying on the floor, bleeding and that would have been the end. He would have been shipped off to some mental hospital where they would try to make him talk about his feelings. He didn't want to talk about his feelings. He wanted to bury them so deep inside himself that they never saw the light of day again, along with his memories.

Stiles stared at the floor of the bathroom knowing that he had to make his way back to class soon or else the teacher and possibly even Issac would notice. If Issac thought something was wrong with him he'd probably, being the good little dog he was would pass it on to Scott or Derek. Derek had mostly stayed away from him since what he had said to him. Derek would have been a hard nut to crack, if he were interested in all in cracking him.

He got up on his feet a little shakily and flushed the toilet. He made his way out of the stall and to the mirror over the bathroom sink and stared at himself. He wasn't sure why he kept staring at his reflection when he knew that he would never again like what was staring back at him. He was so weak, so utterly weak. Stiles wanted to cut, he wanted to cut so bad, but the best he could do was to dig his fingernails into the soft skin on his wrists.

Stiles then got an idea. He couldn't bleed, but that didn't mean that he couldn't hurt himself. He looked around the room to make sure of its emptiness before he delivered a hard blow with his fist to his leg.  He did it again and again until it hurt enough for the pain to go away. He grinned, he didn't know why he hadn't thought of this earlier.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf.
> 
> A/N: I've been inspired lately so I'm going to be posting every other day for a little bit.

 

He stared at the blackboard. He knew what his math teacher was talking about, in fact, he was ahead of his math class so there was no point in paying attention. He instead jammed the tip on his barely sharp enough to write pencil into the palm of his hand. He drove it in hard enough for it to hurt slightly but not hard enough for it to bleed since Scott was right next to him and he was sure to notice the smell.

The bell rung and he blinked as he realized that school was finally over for the day. Scott looked at him and smiled at him in that I-really-feel-pity-for-you-but-I'm-trying-very-unsuccessfully-not-to-show-it kind of way, he really hated that smile. Stiles faked a small smile back, a little worried that he was smiling too widely but Scott didn't seem concerned so he was probably pulling it off.

"So what do you want to do?" Scott ask him and he stuffed all of his stuff back into this backpack, Stiles did the same taking a longer time to do so, so he had more time to come with an expression that he thought he should have. What he wanted to do was go home alone, but it wasn't like he could ask Scott for that especially after his Dad told Scott about his little eating thing and Scott kept forcing him to eat half his lunch.

Scott also had been extra suffocating since then, telling him all the time if he ever wanted to talk about anything he was there. If Stiles ever needed a shoulder to cry on, he was there. If he ever needed someone to hold his hand while he went to the bathroom, he had no doubt that Scott would be there. His Dad was annoyingly the exact same way, always there. saying he could talk to him about anything and that he would listen. The both of them always giving him hugs all the time for absolutely no reason other than they thought it would comfort him. Not seeming to realize that he didn't want them, and didn't like them. Nothing comforted him anymore except pain. He would pound on himself at school and at home in the bathroom but at night after his Dad went to bed he would go back to cutting.

Stiles merely shrugged as he zipped up his backpack.

"Come on, we can do whatever you want," Scott said trying to get him excited but Stiles couldn't seem to find it in himself to feign  excitement. It had been harder lately to fake things, he had less energy to do so and wanted to less. The only reason he faked as much as he did was so that could keep his coping mechanism.

"Come on, anything, no matter how stupid or dumb," Scott tried again. Stiles just shrugged again.

"Stiles, I wish you would tell me what's bothering you. It's not healthy keeping it all bottled up inside yourself," Scott said sincerely. The small amount of caring that cutting had given him had pretty much all washed away. In fact, now he had to cut a lot more or a lot deeper to get the same feeling.

"Stiles," Scott was annoying Stiles thought and fought the urge to roll his eyes.

"Stiles anything," he doubted anything, Stile doubted if he asked Scott to let him cut he'd say "yeah okay," but just to get him to stop continuously talking he texted him.

_Let's watch a movie._ Scott would have to shut up for 2-3 hours if they watched a movie and there was a slight tiny possibility that he could be interested in it. Scott nodded vigorously and Stiles slid into the passenger's seat of the jeep. Scott was driving him around in his jeep since Scott still didn't have his own car yet and there were some legal issues with Stiles driving.  Scott liked to drive him places, probably made him feel useful in some way.

~.~

One and a half hours later Scott had fallen asleep while watching the movie, which was why Stiles picked a nature documentary knowing it tended to have that effect on Scott. Stiles snuck away to the bathroom, he still couldn't bleed with Scott in the house but he could hit himself. He went into the bathroom, closed the door, and  locked it. He removed his shorts and looked down at the bruises on his legs. There was a variety of them, all in different stages of healing, he covered himself up as he realized there weren't any good empty spaces for him. Instead, he pressed them and pressed them hard, smiling when he got the right level of pressure on them.

He took off his shirt, saw the new cuts on his chest and checked to see how they were healing. His chest was covered in a variety of white healed scars, pink healing scars and variety of healing cuts. He knew which one of them was his and which was were Cutter's. He hated the ones that were Cutter's but revered the one that were his. It was strange how he could change something so ugly into something that was his, and his alone. He had changed about half the cuts on his chest from Cutter's to his. Eventually, he planned to do all of them. Maybe then he would stop feeling like a freak, a monster if he could stop seeing the physical reminders every time he looked at himself in the mirror.

"Stiles are you in there?" Scott asked softly while knocking lightly on the door. Stiles buttoned up his shirt and went over and flushed the toilet making it seem like that was what he was doing the whole time. To complete the charade he turned on the sink for a long moment then turned it off. He waited a few more moments then walked out of the bathroom He caught a glimpse of the clock on his way out it was 6, only about 4 more hours till he could find relief again.

 


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Teen Wolf.

Yet again he skipped out during English as he had done so for the past 4 weeks in order to let his stomach do what he had programmed it to do. His throat was pulsing with pain which was a somewhat recent development. He wished he could stop throwing up, but food still tasted terrible and his Dad and Scott still made him eat more than his stomach seemed to be able to order. To actually fix it he would have to tell them about his problem, which wasn't going to happen.

He took out his toothbrush and set about brushing his teeth using a lot more force than necessary and causing his gums to bleed. Stiles smiled slightly at his blood filled smile. He wanted more. He hit himself solidly once only to realize that he had hit the same area that he had cut last night. His hit had broken the scab and blood was now trailing lightly from the wound. It was staining his jeans but at the moment he didn't care. All he liked to feel was the feeling of pain and flowing blood. He closed his eyes and reveled in the feeling, only for it to be broken by the sound of the bathroom door opening. That in and of itself wasn't odd especially since he was in a stall and hidden from view, but it was the voice that stole his happiness away and particularly what the voice said.

"Stiles are you in here? Stiles?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Teen Wolf.

Oh crap! It was Isaac and he was a werewolf. Stiles immediately flushed the toilet then grabbed a wad of toilet paper and quickly pressed it against his leg. Issac's footsteps kept coming closer.

"Stiles, Stiles are you okay?" crap he knew it was him" "...are you...are you bleeding?" Stiles' heart started hammering in his chest. He tried to calm it down knowing that Issac would be able to hear the difference but he couldn't. Stiles heard Issac's footsteps slowly coming closer to the door of the stall and tried his hardest to get his heartbeat to calm while at the same time trying to get the blood all onto the toilet paper, neither things were going very well. Suddenly the door slammed opened and Stiles flung the bloody toilet paper into the toilet and looked up shocked. Issac was standing there taking in the whole scene and from the look on Issac's face, it looked like he had probably interpreted the situation correctly. Issac stared at him, Stiles hated that stare. Stiles took out his cell phone and texted Issac's phone number that Scott had given some time ago for emergencies.

 _You ever learn to knock,_ Issac looked for a moment like he was going to ignore the text but picked up his phone and read it.

"Stiles, what are you doing to yourself?"

 _Trying to use the bathroom but someone's knocking down doors._ Stiles stared at him pointedly, still hoping for some reason he could convince Issac to leave it alone and not tell anyone. However, Issac looked down pointedly at his leg that was still bleeding a little bit.

"I meant that," Stiles wondered how he was going to lie his way out of this one.

"It's your blood on your leg and there's nothing sharp enough in this bathroom to cause a wound like that."

 _I don't need your help go away_ he furiously texted to Issac who looked down at his cell when it beeped and looked up unimpressed.

 _"_ I...does Scott know?" Stiles refused to answer that question.

"No, of course, he doesn't," Issac answered his own question.

 _"_ Why haven't you told him?" Stiles just stared at him defiantly, Issac was ruining everything.  He had had everything under control. Why did Issac have to walk in?!

"Stiles, why haven't you told him?!" he shouted and Stiles winced at the yelling, they always yelled. Besides ,if Issac got too loud Scott would hear him and come.  Scott would tell his Dad and it would be all over. Maybe if he confessed some of his feelings to Issac he wouldn't tell anyone what he saw.

_Because he wouldn't understand, none of them w_ _ould_ _._

"Stiles you need talk to them. What you're doing to yourself it's not healthy. "

_Why should I care and why would I talk to them?_ _They don't understand. They took me away_

"From what?"

 _Peace,_ Stiles texted, Issac looked confused.

_I had peace and they took it away. This is the closest I can get to it anymore and it wears off too soon._

"Then why are you hiding it?" he asked like that meant that deep inside that this was all a cry for help when it wasn't.

_Because they'll take it away too and then what will I have?_

"Stiles what happens if you cut too deep?" he asked worried and earnestly.

_Then I'll be there again._

"You don't mean... Do you want to die?"

 _No, a_ nswered Stiles after a long moment. _I don't know,_ he amended when he realized Isaac knew he was lying.

"Stiles you have to tell someone," Issac said softly.

_They'll take it away!_

"Maybe they need to. You need to be able to get through it. Are you using anything else to help you get through it?"

 _YOU'RE NOT TELLING SCOTT!_ Stiles typed in all capital letters to show how serious he was about that point.

"Stiles I have to. You need to talk to him, talk to your dad, I don't know how to deal with this," Issac said helplessly.

_You tell anyone and I will kill myself._

"Stiles."

I _will_

 _Isaac, you tell anyone then you will have to live with the fact that's it's your fault that I'm dead for the rest of your life._ He texted and watched Issac's face he looked torn about what to do.

 _Promise me Issac. Promise me you won't tell Scott or anyone or I going to kill myself_ he texted and hoped that he could manipulate Issac into not telling anyone what he saw.

"Okay," Issac reluctantly agreed and walked out the door. Stiles watched him leave. Why did Issac have to follow him? He had ruined everything.

 


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf.

Despite the ultimatum he gave Issac, he knew that Issac was going to tell someone, it was just a matter of when. Stiles had taken his spare keys he kept in his backpack and went to the jeep he hadn't driven in awhile. Technically, he wasn't supposed to drive it until he got checked out by a shrink and told that he was okay to drive. That was why Scott had been driving them both to and from school. He unlocked his car, got in, put the keys in the ignition and pulled out of the parking lot. He wasn't really sure exactly where he was going. All he knew was that he wanted it all to go away. The pain, the fear, the memories, the nightmares. He had it all under control until Issac saw Stiles for who he really was. Now it all in overdrive.

He came to the road he usually went down when he was going home and went the other way. He kept making turns going the way he usually wouldn't, and found himself going deeper and deeper into the forest. He got so lost in thought that when he rounded a curve he nearly hit a black SUV, he barely pulled away in time. He pulled off to the side of road breathing hard, just thinking of how close it had been. A foot more to the right and he would have hit the other car. He leaped out of the car, he may hate himself, he may hate everything about himself, but he didn't want to take anyone else out with him. Why was he thinking about taking himself out? He hadn't really thought about it before but Issac's question swirled in his brain.

"Do you want to die?" he didn't want to live like he was anymore if you could call his life living, which he wasn't sure it qualified as that. He was a shell of who he once was. Stiles used to be so snarky, so stupidly brave and now...now he was a shell, a husk of a body. The only thing that gave him any joy in his life anymore was running a knife through his skin. What kind of existence was that?

He shut the door of his jeep and just started walking. He didn't care where he went, or the fact that it was steadily getting darker and he was a lot weaker than he used to be. As he walked he just thought of how pathetic he was. Stiles had spent 4 months hoping to escape his hell, only once he was out he had hid within himself and had carved his pain into his skin. They knew now, or would soon. They were going to try to get him to talk and try to expose him. Try to get him to talk about his memories, and the shell that he had become. He bit his lip hard enough so that it started to bleed, but it only gave him a little bit of relief. Silent tears started to fall blinding him momentarily until Stiles wiped the tears away.

After he wiped them away he spotted a bridge in the distance. He walked up a somewhat steep hill in order to get onto the bridge, he peered over the edge. He had realized that he had been going into the forest, but he hadn't realized he had been up in altitude. The bridge was bridging the gap between two edges of two cliffs and it was a good thousand foot drop down. He couldn't help but continue to look down. He climbed up on the guardrails a bit to get a better look and found that it was indeed a very long way down. He climbed back down to the ground. There was something familiar about this bridge he thought. Unfortunately, his brain wouldn't supply him with the memories so he dismissed the thought.

He leaned against the guardrail and slumped down against it,  suddenly realizing how tired he was. Stiles had steadily lost a lot of weight lately and he hadn't exactly been super beefy to begin with. He looked at the sky which steadily losing its light. He knew how it felt, his light had left him months ago and he couldn't seem to get it back. It didn't seem possible to get it back. What was the point of anything anymore? He couldn't think of one answer. He used to care so much about everything and everyone, but it was like they had stripped him of everything that used to be him. They had killed him and yet still left him alive. It would have been much kinder of them to have done what his Dad had done to their brother and just shoot him. Instead, they had destroyed him, maimed him, and made him into this. This freak, this ugly disgusting monster who couldn't even seem to communicate or care for those that he would have given his life for months ago.

He snorted, there was no point to any of this. No reason to keep suffering. He had just done it because he hadn't seen any other way to go about it, but Issac... Issac had opened his eyes. He didn't have to go through it anymore. There was no point in living if you can't feel alive. 

He got up from his sitting position and climbed up a bit onto the guardrail again looking down. As a way to go, it wasn't bad. A short feeling of flying and then a very sudden death. The bridge was thousands of feets from the ground, so it wasn't very likely that he would reach the ground and just paralyze himself or something. He climbed up a little further until he was at the top, he reached out to and grabbed one of the support beams. He heard something from behind him come up the road and nearly lost his grip as he turned around. He swallowed hard.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Disclaimer: This is no point in living if you can't feel alive is a lyric from The World is not Enough from Garbage which I don't own either.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Teen Wolf.

 

The something coming up the path was a car, more specifically it was Derek's Camaro. Once the car stopped three doors opened quickly and he saw Issac, Derek, and Scott looking at him. Scott started stepping forward.

"Stay back!" he shouted. Stiles was surprised as his voice actually manifested itself this time, albeit very creakily from nonuse and his throat hurt quite a bit, probably from the vomiting. Scott didn't pay attention to him and stepped forward again. Stiles yelled.

"If any of you take another step towards me, I swear I'll jump," Scott stopped but looked at him with pleading eyes.

"Stiles please don't do this," Scott begged tears starting to appear in his eyes and Stiles felt his eyes doing the same.

"I...I have to do this," Stiles said creakily.

"Stiles, no you don't...just climb down and we can deal with this," Scott pleaded with Stiles.

"You don't understand Scott! This will never get better! I'm broken! I'm shattered! You can never put all the pieces back together!"

"Stiles you don't know that," Stiles sobbed.

"Yes, I do."

"Stiles we can deal with this together, like we've always done before."

"We can't, cause I'm not Stiles...I'm not him anymore and I don't think I can ever be again. This is all I am now, this person who's only joy in life is hurting himself. Seriously what kind of life it that? That's the kind of life you want to protect?" Scott looked away for a moment and then back.

"Stiles do you remember when we came up here when we were kids?" Stiles frowned he knew it had looked familiar and then he remembered.

_Stiles had been very hyperactive little child, so Scott's Dad had once during summer vacation_ _taken_ _the two of them camping. They had only driven for about an hour when Stiles had started getting antsy. Scott's Dad_ _had gotten_ _tired of having the back of his seat repeatedly kicked,_ _so he had_ _pulled the car over to the side of the road._

_Stiles had immediately shot out of the car like a bat out of hell. He had run along the side of the road back and forth for a little bit. Scotts father afraid of the energy in Stiles and told him to hike a bit up the hill and they'd keep up with him in the car. Scott not wanting his hyperactive friend to walk alone had walked up the hill with him, even though he didn't have nearly as much energy as his friend had._

_They made it about midway when they came to a bridge, when they stopped because Scott was on the border of an asthma attack. He remembered forcing Scott to sit down on the bridge against the guardrail and waiting anxiously to see if Scott was going to have an asthma attack and being relieved when Scott breathed normally after awhile. He remembered all of this but not like they were his memories._

"Scott it's like my entire life before happened to someone else. I have the memories but it...it doesn't feel like me." He wasn't sure how else to explain it. He remembered those memories but couldn't feel the emotional attachment the way that he used to. "I'm not Stiles...I can't feel the way that Stiles did, it's like...they..." he sobbed and it kind of hurt his throat "They broke me Scott... and I don't think that you or anyone else can fix me."

"Will you at least let me try?" Scott begged tears flowing down his cheeks.

"There's nothing to try. It won't work...I'm just too weak... too broken," Stiles said shaking his head.

"You don't know that for sure," Scott pleaded, but Stiles only shook his head again. Scott switched from looking at him to exchanging glances with Derek then nodded.

"You want to feel strong, in control, right?" Stiles nodded, he guessed that was what he wanted, but there was no way to feel that. His arm was starting to get a little tired from holding his body up by itself, in fact, his whole body was started to feel tired.

"Then take the bite, because then you won't just feel just strong and in control, with a little practice you will be strong and in control," Stiles frowned.

"What?" he asked confused, he hadn't even considered that. The bite would make him strong and able to defend himself. He had to admit that he was considering the idea. It would change him into a monster another part of him argued. But he was already a monster another part of him argued, at least this way he'd be able to defend himself against something like this happening again. He turned to look at Derek who he had hadn't really looked at since they had driven up, since he had been giving nearly all his attention to Scott. He tried to talk a few times before he was able to croak out to Derek.

"You agreed to this?"

"It was my idea," Stiles stared hard at him trying to decide if this was some sort of trap. One to try to get him to come down from the guardrail and then trap him in a rubber room.

"Why? You don't even like me."

"That's not true. He came to see you when you were still comatose," Scott said and Stiles remembered Scott telling him that some time ago. It was hard to pinpoint when since the days and years had recently all started blurring together.

"You're part of this world, you have been ever since you got involved. This will just make it more literal."

"What if it doesn't work? What if everything's the same?" this he asked to Scott.

"Then at least you won't have to worry about bleeding out if you slice too far." Stiles considered it. Okay he would give it a try.

"Alright," he said and nodded. They looked at him expectantly and he realized that they wanted permission to come closer without him jumping, Stiles hesitated then nodded. They came closer to him and then Stiles reluctantly started climbing down. When he got to the bottom Scott's arms encircled him he wished that he felt something, anything, but he didn't.

"Stiles it's going to be okay I promise." Stiles thought 'don't make promises that you can't keep.' Scott unwrapped himself and Derek stepped forward eyes red and fangs out. Stiles nodded and offered up his arm to him. He wasn't scared, if he didn't survive at least he would get what he wanted. Derek bit his arm. The pain hit, he stared at the bite marks in his arm numbly. If he didn't die, he was going to be a werewolf but he was fine either way.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment and please don't kill me :)


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Teen Wolf.

Stiles' eyes opened and he took in his surroundings, he in was in the railway station. Why was he there? Suddenly it all came back to him: the bridge, the bite. He looked down at his arm where Derek had bit him the mark was gone and he seemed to feel fine. Was he a werewolf? Or was he like Lydia immune? He really hoped that wasn't the case. He had hoped that Scott was right and that he would feel better. He also remembered that apparently throwing up, then walking up a steep hill and holding on with one hand to a supporting beam for awhile was not good. When Derek had bitten him apparently the small amount of blood that he lost also caused him to lose consciousness.

He also remembered waking up for a brief moment in the back of Derek's Camaro, only to be told to go back to sleep by Scott. He sat up and looked around the room, he spotted Derek and Scott talking in low voices. They were quite far away from him, but if he was a werewolf he should be able to hear him shouldn't he? Did he really care? It didn't matter because the next thing he heard was.

"Good, you're up," coming from Issac who walked in behind him, Derek and Scott turned to face him. Derek's face was a stone but Stiles could tell from Scott's face that they had obviously been talking about him. Did he care? He found that a part of him did. Apparently in trying to kill himself he had opened up a bit to that part of him that cared again. He didn't like it, he wanted it gone again, that way only lied more pain. He shook his head, that way lied Stiles, if he wanted to feel like himself again maybe he had to feel those emotions? He shook his head, he didn't want to, there was too much pain there. However going the way he had been going hadn't exactly been a picnic either.

He was conflicted. Stiles didn't want to deal with the pain, but he also knew that going the way he had would only get him where he had been before. However, if he was a werewolf now the cutting would heal quicker, maybe he could still cope that way... only that wouldn't work now since everyone knew and they'd be watching him like a hawk. How was he going to survive this? Maybe he should have jumped when he had the chance. He jumped as he realized that all three of them were staring at him.

"Stiles, how are you doing?" Scott asked slowly. Stiles decided not to answer since he was pretty sure they didn't want to know that he was wondering if he should have killed himself after all.

"Stiles say something, I know you can talk now," Scott demanded and Stiles sighed.

"I don't want to talk about it," he said and looked down at his lap. He had an idea and ran his hands lightly over his legs, they didn't hurt. He bit his lip lightly, but not hard enough to draw blood. Did that mean that he was a werewolf? Did that mean all the wounds he had worked so hard to make were all just gone now? It wasn't like he could just check, not with the three of them staring at him the way that they were.

"Here eat this," Scott said throwing a granola bar at him which he caught. Stiles stared at it, he still wasn't hungry. He was kind of hoping that everything would have just fixed itself once he had become a werewolf, If that was indeed what he was, the jury was still out on that one.

"Stiles you don't have to eat the whole thing but you are going to eat part of it," Scott insisted, Stiles sighed and opened the granola bar and took a bite of it. Still tasted like ash he found out disappointingly. He folded the edges back over the bar and put the rest in his pocket. Scott looked at him sadly, but Stiles wasn't going to eat anymore. Now that he didn't have to hide it anymore Stiles didn't much find the point. He wasn't even sure why he had taken a bite in the first place.

Except...except that a small part of him that cared about the look that Scott was sending his way. He didn't like this...this caring it was making him feel guilt, he shook his head no...he set about trying to bury all his emotions again when he stopped. He picked back on the old thought. What if that was the problem? He buried emotions, both good and bad so that he didn't have to feel. So he didn't have to feel the pain, the guilt, the shame, no..no he had to hide from these feelings, these overwhelming feelings. What if the hiding from them was his problem? He felt so dissociated from himself that he didn't feel like himself, couldn't remember his memories with the properly associated emotions. How could he feel like himself when he didn't allow himself to feel at all? Stiles got up from whatever he was sitting on which appeared to be a bedroll. He felt all three werewolves eyes on him and he started to walk a very slow pace up and down. He didn't want to feel, but what if that was the only way? The only way to feel better was to be Stiles again.

"Stiles, are you okay?" Scott asked, and Stiles ignored him, picking up his speed slightly. The next time Scott got in front of him and held him in place.

"Stiles, are you okay?" Scott asked earnestly. How in the world could he make himself feel it when it was the last thing in the world that he wanted to do? The answer suddenly clicked into his mind.

"I have to go there," he said aloud.

"Go where?" Issac asked, but Stiles wasn't looking at him he was looking at Scott who seemed to understand what he was getting at.

"Stiles, I don't think that's a good idea," he said slowly shaking his head, Stiles shook his head.

"Scott, I need to go there," Scott didn't understand. It wasn't like he wanted to go there, it was the last place in the world he wanted to go again, but he needed to, he needed to see it. It was the only way to be better. He had to feel it, no matter how much he didn't want to.

"Stiles I don't understand," Scott said honestly.

"I _need_ to go there Scott," he said again emphasizing the word need.

"Stiles," Scott tried again.

"Now," Stiles said again adamant and Scott finally nodded.

"Okay, I think this is a bad idea but okay." he nodded again.

 


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Teen Wolf (which admittedly is probably a good thing since I like to torture my favorite characters a bit too much.)

 

 

He had only got about halfway there when he really started to see Scott's point. Maybe this was a very very very bad idea. There had to be better ways of getting himself to feel again, then again he was no longer sure that he wanted to feel again. Maybe he should let Scott take him back and try to unsuccessfully get him to talk like he had been before. He felt empty though...shattered...not like himself...how could he ever feel something again when he pushed it all back. There was only one place where he would be unable to push it all back.

No...no...this was a bad idea. He felt as his fangs descended and his claws came out. He didn't like this. He opened the door in while the car was still moving and leaped out landing on his feet. He took a moment to admire his new werewolf reflexes, and the fact that he appeared in fact to be a werewolf before running into the woods. Using his new werewolf speed he ran for about five minutes before he stopped, not because he was out of breath just because he felt like it. These feelings, this pain he didn't like it, he didn't like at all. Plus now he had his own knifes attached to himself, he stared down at his claws which were still out. He wanted to test exactly how sharp they were. He tore off his shirt using his claws. He stared down at his chest, all of his previous healing wounds they were healed now.

He could change the rest of them right now. He used the claw on his pointer finger to dig into his skin enjoying the feeling of pain...only to realize how short the amount of time he was able to enjoy it as his skin started healing and the pain quickly went away. No, no this couldn't be happening. He slashed another one open only for the pain to go quickly away as well. He slashed several more and would have slashed more when a wolfed-out Scott come into his field of vision and pinned him against a tree. Scott had looked angry but Stiles knew that Scott was just worried about him. No, no he cared again, he didn't want to care again.

"Stiles you have to stop doing this to yourself," Scott said sadly.

"The pain.. it doesn't stay," Stiles said sadly.

"No, it doesn't." Scott agreed.

"Scott I don't like this," Stiles admitted.

"We'll get through this," Scott said earnestly. He again tried to put the wall back up he wanted his non-emotional state back. He just barely managed to stop before he slipped too far into it. It wasn't done, he still had to go there, it was the only thing that could get him from going back there. Or might possibly permanently put him back in his happy place, that was actually preferable.

"We should get back to the car," Stiles said.

"Stiles, we don't have to do this today," Scott said and Stiles shook his head.

"Yes we do." he insisted.

"Are you sure?"

"Not at all, but I can't battle it this way anymore," Scott nodded.

Review please :)

 


	25. Chapter 25

Stiles's ears heard the wild thumping of his heart as they pulled into the driveway.

"We...uh had to burn it so the neighbors wouldn't smell them," Scott said in barely a whisper but Stiles's new werewolf hearing heard it just fine. The house indeed was severely burned, but he could still smell it underneath all the soot and ash. Their smell, he hadn't even realized as a human what their smells had been but as a werewolf he did. He could also smell blood lot of old blood, his blood.

"We can go...we should go," Scott said. Stiles shook his head.

"It's the only way," he said and opened his door slowly. He made his way up the driveway and paused at the first part of the burned building, then stepped into it. The smell was overpowering but he focused on the smell rather than the memories. This was a bad idea cropped up in his head again and become his only thought. This is a bad idea...this is a bad idea. It played in his head like it was a song on repeat. He didn't like this...he should leave, yet, he found his body frozen.

He heard echoes of his cries from the beginning, back when he couldn't stop himself from doing so. He gasped as he felt himself unable to breathe as memories started closing on him, memories he didn't want to remember.

"Please stop! I didn't do anything!" he heard himself cry.

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry! Just tell me what I can do to make you stop!" he heard himself screaming in pain. He broke out of his trance as he realized that his stomach was rebelling against the minor amount of food that he had just eaten. He ran out of the burnt house not realizing until he was out that he was in the backyard instead of the front yard. He barely had time to register that before his stomach refused to the keep the minor amount of food he had eaten in his stomach anymore.

He found himself on his hand and knees and felt the burn in his throat, although it wasn't as bad as it had been before. He sat back on his legs for a long moment just breathing and heard footsteps from behind him. He could smell them now and knew just by smell that Derek, Issac, and Scott were behind him. He heard one of them step forward and knew it was Scott. Scott slowly stepped over to him and got into his view.

"If you want to talk about it I'm all ears." Stiles could hear Scott heartbeat as well which was going faster than normal. Stiles felt tears streaming down his cheeks and saw Scott going blurry. Stiles pulled himself into a cross-legged position. He could smell all three of them, the smell of their burned rotted corpse, but really the smell of them before that which permeated the entire place. He turned to Scott.

"How did they die?" Scott may have told him, but whenever Scott had started talking about this or trying to get him to talk before Stiles tended to tune Scott out.

"I killed them and I'd do it again in a heartbeat," Scott said adamantly and Stiles nodded. He climbed up slowly to his feet and looked around the backyard. It was a normal looking backyard with lounge chairs, grill, and even a pool. It looked like a normal house. Not like they had a kid locked up in their basement that they treated worse they would have a dog, just because his father had done his job. The normalness seemed to make the entire thing even worse. He didn't want to cry anymore but he didn't want to hide completely, so he figured a good compromise was letting his wolf take over somewhat, if only for a little bit.

* * *

 

 Stiles' eyes flashed gold and his claws came out. Scott tensed and wondered if Stiles was going to be violent or not. However, Stiles just seemed to sniff in their direction and then turn around and started moving. Scott looked to Derek and saw Issac doing the same.

"Is this...is this normal?"

"I don't know," Derek said with a shrug and started following Stiles. Scott and Issac used a little of their werewolf speed to catch up since Stiles was only going at human speed at the moment. Stiles had moved into a different room and was sniffing loudly again. He was looking for something, although who knew what Stiles's wolf was looking for. Stiles started moving slowly again and Scott stopped momentarily realizing where Stiles was heading. It had taken him this long to figure it out because the last he had been inside these walls he had been setting fire to it.

"He's going to where they kept him," Scott said aloud. Derek and Issac turned to him but Stiles just ignored him and continued sniffing around.

"Should we try to snap him out of it?" Scott asked. He was worried about the damage to Stiles' mind if they went into the room where the events that had caused him withdraw in his mind had happened in the first place. Derek paused for a long moment then said.

"Let's let it play out a little longer," Derek answered. Scott hoped he was right, he didn't want to deal with another 3 weeks of Stiles staring right through him. He was also pretty sure that wasn't a very healthy state of mind to be in. He followed Stiles into the room and watched Stiles' golden eyes stare around the room unblinking. Scott really wished at the moment he could read minds, that way he would know if he should be getting Stiles out of here, or if this was helpful. He kind of doubted this was helpful. How in the world could it be?

Stiles slowly made his way to one of the walls ash covered walls and put the palm of his hand against it. He ran his hand lightly down the wall. Scott felt like throwing up too as some of the ash was removed and Scott found himself staring at two letters and knew what that meant. It was the letters from his nightmare. He worked hard for a long moment to avoid throwing up, then focused back on Stiles. Stiles was brushing off the rest of the ash off the wall, some spots on the wall were burned off, leaving only a few odd letters but Scott was well aware of what it used to say.

_Dad will save me_

_Scott will save me_

_Scott and Dad will save me._

_I'll be home soon._

Stiles started slashing at the remaining letters with his claws. He slashed them again and again and again until if Scott hadn't already known the words that used to be there he wouldn't have any idea now. Scott stepped forward without even realizing it, Stiles was his best friend he wanted to help him. Stiles kept slashing and slashing at the words even though he was getting more into the wall at this point than anything else. At the rate he was going he was going to claw his way through the wall. Which was probably okay because he doubted that the electricity in this place was still on, so there was probably no risk of electrical shock. 

He caught sight of Stiles' claws, the fleshy part, bleeding. He wanted to go to him to hug him, or to make him stop slashing at the wall but he didn't. Stiles' fingers would heal and he had a feeling that this was very important for Stiles. so he didn't pull Stiles away and instead watched him dig deeper and deeper into the wall. He instead felt a few tears slipping down his cheeks as he watched the scene in front of him.

 

 


	26. Chapter 26

Stiles spent another 10 minutes tearing up the wall before he stopped and just stared at it for a long moment. What Stiles was looking for? Scott didn't know. The entirely too skinny teen moved to the opposite wall and Scott's gaze followed him. If he remembered correctly that was where the chain had been, although when Stiles had been rescued he hadn't been chained up. Scott had torn it out of the wall in anger before he had set the place on fire, and the chain was a few feet away from them. He was glad that the chain was covered in ash now, which was better than the blood which had been on it before making it look rusted.

Stiles started in on that section where there was a hole, where the chain used to be connected to the wall. Only this time he didn't use his claws but his fists. He pounded his fists hard into the wall, until the holes in the wall went a few feet deep, then he stopped and looked around the room. Stiles then went around the room in no particular order or pattern smashing the walls here and there and everywhere, punching and kicking at them until there were several gouges in each wall. Stiles stopped after a long period of destruction and he panted a little, his eyes still golden.

His eyes moved from the walls to Derek and his mouth dropped into a snarl. He was across the room in seconds and attacking Derek. It took Scott a moment to understand what he was doing. Derek was his alpha and if Derek hurt him the wounds wouldn't heal as quickly. He opened his mouth to tell Derek not to hurt him, but from the look in Derek's eyes, Derek seemed to understand what was Stiles was trying to do. Instead of hurting Stiles back he pinned him against the wall; only for Stiles to wildly thrash in what seemed like fear, trying to get away from the wall. Derek and Scott shared a brief alarmed look and then Derek released him. Stiles stumbled a few feet away from him, then snarled and came at Derek again a moment later.

Scott found himself stepping between the two of them. Stiles' lips curled into a snarl. His friend's eyes telling him he wanted pain and he didn't care who he had to hurt in order to get it again. Scott stood his ground, if Stiles attacked him, he would let him. If Stiles needed something to pour his anger and hurt into he would be that person instead of Stiles hurting himself. Stiles attempted to move around Scott, but Scott moved with him keeping his body between Stiles and Derek. After a few more tries Stiles stopped and glared at him.

"Scott move," Stiles growled angrily.

"No." Scott refused, shaking his head.

"I need it...I need the pain." he insisted. It tore at Scott's heart to hear Stiles say that about himself.

"No, you don't," Scott said with a shake of his head. "You're strong." he tried to tell him.

"I'm empty," Stiles countered with a shake of his head.

"You're my best friend." Scott's voice cracked, his eyes were going blurry.

"I need it!" Stiles said and attempted to go around Scott again. Due to the fact that Scott had been a werewolf longer and was more in tune with his werewolf body, he easily blocked him again.

"No, you don't!" Scott insisted loudly.

"Yes, I do!" Stiles said adamantly, then suddenly slashed at his face. Scott brought a claw up to his face astonished that Stiles had actually hurt him. "Get out of the way!" Stiles shouted slashing him across the chest, this time. Scott grunted as the sensation of pain washed through him. "Get out of the way!" Stiles yelled again as he slashed just underneath the slash on his chest. Scott stood his ground, and was rewarded slightly as Stiles expression started slowly changing from anger to sadness even as Stiles slashed him a few more times in various places.

"I have to have pain! I need it! I need it!" he shouted as he slashed all over. He saw Derek and Issac coming to help him from behind Stiles, but Scott shook his head. Stiles was starting to break down since he was unable to hide from his emotions or take away the pain in any kind of lasting way, if Stiles needed to hurt him a bit to do it then he would let him. "I need it!" Stiles said, this time, a single tear rolled down Stiles's check.

"I have to forget! I can't remember!" he sobbed. "I can't go on without it! Give it to me! I need it!" Scott said nothing just stayed in place standing tall despite the pain coursing through his body. He reminded himself that he would heal, and that he had a feeling that this was helping Stiles. "I need it!" Stiles shouted again and sort of fell to his knees for a moment, his friend looked up at him begging him. Part of him wanted to give Stiles whatever he wanted just to stop him from looking at him like that, but he also knew that while it would help him at the moment, it wouldn't help him long term.

"Stiles you don't need it." Scott shook his head "You're strong. You're my best friend. My brother." Scott swallowed down a lump in his throat and found himself on the verge of sobbing, a single sob escaping his mouth but managed to forge on "and I love you." Stiles looked at him, tears in his eyes but glared at him. He got back onto his feet and slashed him again, this time, his already slashed chest. Scott grunted in pain.

"You love me?! Where the hell were you?!" Another slash across his chest. "Where the hell were you while they were ripping into me every single day!?" Stiles slashed his chest again. Scott's eyes went blurry as the tears started flowing down his cheeks. He wasn't crying because of the physical pain but because the emotion one the guilt, the guilt of not being able to save Stiles in time.

"I am so sorry," Scott said softly. Stiles stared back him sadly, then his face contorted in anger again.

"They hurt me every," another slash, "Single", slash, "Day!",slash "What the hell were you doing Scott?"Slash. The physical pain was enough to bring him to his knees, he gasped in pain but he didn't tell Stiles to stop "What were you doing when they hurt me? Just sitting at home and thinking I'm glad he's gone!" This time, the questions weren't punctuated with slashes but the question hurt much more than the slashes had.

"No!" Scott shouted. How could Stiles think that? Stiles was his best friend in the whole world. "I looked for you! I missed you every single day!"

"Then why did it take you four months to find me!" Stiles yelled at him.

"I'm sorry!" Scott said softly, he was so so sorry. Stiles put his face next to Scott and said in barely a whisper.

"You're sorry," Stiles said softly. "I lived in this place for months and you're sorry."

"I'm sorry," Scott repeated again brokenly. Tears started to appear in Stiles' eyes again even as he glared at him.

"You left me here."

"I'm sorry," Scott cried again.

"I died here," Stiles sobbed.

"No you didn't, you're still alive." Scott insisted shaking his head. Stiles shook his head.

"It doesn't feel like it Scott, it feels like I'm dead."

"You're not dead Stiles...you're just a little-"

"Shattered?" Stiles said with a bitter smile.

"No," Scott said with a shake of his head "Depressed." Stiles kept his bitter smile.

"Depressed, it that what they call this feeling that makes me feel like I'm dead inside?" Stiles said bitterly, Scott nodded.

"It seems like a very inadequate word to describe everything I'm feeling," Stiles continued in the same tone.

"Words are that way sometimes," Scott added not quite sure what else to say to that. Stiles looked at him for a long moment before saying.

"Scott I'm tired."

"Then you should sleep."

"That's not what I mean," Stiles said with another bitter smile and a few small shakes of his head.

"I'm tired of everything. I just want it to stop," he said sadly. Scott nodded, he understood, he lunged across the short distance between the two of them and wrapped Stiles in the tightest hug he could. Which was a good idea since Stiles started fighting him on the hug for a long moment before relaxing into it.

"Scott I don't know what to do," Stiles cried into his shoulder. Scott rubbing his back with his now human hands.

"It's okay Stiles, we'll get through this," Stiles sobbed.

"How can we when everything always feels wrong, and I feel so empty inside?"

"Because you're my best friend Stiles, my brother, and there's nothing I wouldn't do for you." All that could be heard for awhile after that was crying of both Scott and Stiles.

 

 


	27. Chapter 27

Scott felt Stiles cries slowly drop off and his body become still. Even as a werewolf his small body weight was probably making more tired; it was something that happened with anorexia and bulimia which Scott had read on his phone while Stiles had been sleeping at Derek's place. Scott had along Stiles's father had been trying to get Stiles to eat more, which he had. However, he was also pretty sure from what Issac had told him that Stiles had also been throwing up every single meal Scott had made him eat during the class he shared with Issac.

Scott despite his assurance to Stiles that he would make everything okay  felt lost now that Stiles wasn't conscious to see his weakness. How in the world was he going to make this all better for his best friend? Stiles had gone through months of torture. Scott knew that Stiles's only real desire was to hurt himself, that he didn't like to eat and whatever he did eat was throw up not long after. How in the world could he fix all that?

Not to mention that he had no idea how he hadn't known about it in the first place? Stiles was mean for awhile, then suddenly overnight he had seemed a lot more like himself. Scott had thought that Stiles had finally turned over a new leaf and things were getting back to normal. Had he been too blind? Had he just not wanted to see that Stiles was lying through his teeth? Had he not wanted to see how badly his friend was hurting? Stiles had nearly killed himself and Scott had thought that things were going better.

Yesterday

_Scott was staring at the board in a bored fashion. His eyes lifting too often to the clock right above Mr. Hansen head which was losing the fight for hair. Mr, Hansen was wearing an orange sweater vest and he was talking about history. Scott knew he should really be listening since he was behind in most of his classes from spending so much of his time looking for and then taking care of Stiles. Honestly, he wasn't sure how he was every going to catch up, but it was all worth it because Stiles was home now. After a rough patch Stiles seemed to be doing much better, Scott thought with a smile. Well, except for the fact that he still wasn't talking, he reminded himself smile fading. But he was sure that Stiles would talk in time and that Stiles was going to be okay._

_His thoughts were interrupted by the door opened and Issac walked in. Mr. Hansen opened his mouth but before he could say whatever he was planning to Issac cut him off._

_"Scott we have to go." Scott frowned but looked into Issac's eyes. Scott absently heard his teacher telling Issac that Scott had to stay because he was already behind in class and couldn't afford to be any more behind than he already was. He didn't care. Scott could see from the look in Issac's eyes and the tone of his voice that something was very wrong. Scott was out of his seat and to the door before he even realized it. He didn't realize that he left his backpack and his stuff at his desk. Nor did he really care as he walked out of the room with Issac, Mr. Hansen yelling things at his back that he didn't really hear. They walked quickly halfway down the hall before they stopped._

_"What's going on?" Issac looked down at the ground for a long moment like he was ashamed._

_"Issac what's going on? You got me out of class. This better be important!" Scott shouted._

_"I...I promised I wouldn't tell," he said to the ground and then he looked back into Scott's eyes. "But he never came back to class." Scott frowned not knowing where this was going but from Issac's tone and demeanor he knew that it wasn't going to be good._

_"Who never came back to-" Scott cut himself off as he remembered that Issac and Stiles shared that class period together._

_"Stiles?" he asked urgently. His thoughts were now filled the familiar worry about his best friend state of mind. "What's going on? What happened with Stiles?" he said quickly nearly at Stiles speed -well old Stiles speed._

_"I...He...He..." Issac took a deep breath and went back to staring at the floor. "Stiles has been leaving class." Scott didn't get it and his brow furrowed in confusion. "He's been leaving every single_ _class_ _...so I followed him and... we have to find him," Issac said looking up into his eyes again, then dropped his eyes and head back down._

_"Why?" Scott lifted Issac's head and kept it in place so that he couldn't look away again. "Issac, what did you see?" Issac swallowed._

_"It's more what I smelt: blood and vomit." Scott wasn't sure what Issac was saying but he had a bad feeling._

_"What?"_

_"He...he's been throwing up...I think... every day during English..._ _and I'm pretty sure he's been hurting himself too._ _" Scott shook his head vigorously in denial._

_"No...no he wouldn't do that!" Scott_ _said shaking his head_ _. "You_ _'_ _r_ _e_ _lying!" He shouted because Issac had to be lying._ _Scott_ _could have not have been so blind as to_ _not_ _see how bad his friend was hurting._ _Issac looked him right in his eyes this time, not a hint of fear of shame._

_"Scott, if you care about Stiles we have to get out of here now," Issac said firmly. Scott stared at him for a long moment angry. How dare Issac question how much he cared about his best friend?!_ _Then he realized that Issac was right._ _N_ _o matter how bad_ _ly he_ _felt that he hadn't seen it and that Issac was the one to tell him that his best friend was in more pain then he knew, they had to go and help him._

_"Alright," he said_

_"He's not here. I already checked. His smell disappears in the parking lot." Scott froze then suddenly ran_ _through the hall, then_ _out of the door at not-so-human speeds._ _He didn't_ _ca_ _re_ _that anyone looking out the_ _ir_ _classroom door could see. Scott made his way to the parking lot and to the spot where he had parked that morning to see the_ _S_ _tiles' jeep suspiciously missing. Scott jerked his head as he heard Issac come up behind him at a more human run._

_"What is it?" he asked Scott._

_"Call Derek." Issac's brow furrowed in confusion._

_"Why?" Scott shook his head._

_"Stiles took his jeep and we need a car."_ _Issac nodded._

_Thirty minutes later, they were in Derek's Camaro, trying to figure out where Stiles was purely by s_ _cent_ _. Scott and Issac had their head_ _s_ _out_ _of_ _the car windows searching for_ _Stiles's_ _scent. It might have made Scott feel ridiculous or like a dog, but he really had bigger worries at the moment and all of them were named Stiles._

_"_ _What are you going to do even if you do find him?"_ _Derek asked._ _They had to find him, there was no other option._ _A_ _s for what to_ _say_ _when he found Stiles, he shook his head._

_"I don't know," he admitted aloud._ _Scott_ _wished that he did. He wished he had all the answers._ _He wished_ _that this hadn't happened to Stiles, his best friend._ _He wished_ _that he could_ _go_ _back in time and stop those who had hurt Stiles. But besides the fact that their lives were a freak show there was no way that he knew of to time travel._

_"_ _That really sound_ _s_ _like a great plan," Derek said dead-panned.  Scott shifted and growled at Derek angrily, who sighed._

_"I'm just saying, you might want to have some sort of plan."_

_"I'm open to ideas,"_ _Scott_ _growled and then sniffed the air again because he forgot for a few seconds because of his anger._

_"Are you really?"_

_"Yes," Scott growled angrily. He'd do everything in his power to make sure his best friend made it out of this_ _okay_ _. "Turn right," he directed Derek because that's where Stiles' scent went. Scott noticed that they were in the woods and getting further into it._

_"Even turn him?" Scott was startled._

_"What?" he asked shocked. Stiles had never wanted to be turned, he had never asked. Sometimes he had been jealous about it but he had never seemed to really_ _want to be a werewolf. "Stiles doesn't want to., Scott said shaking his head._

_"And what if that changes?_ _W_ _hat it's the only way to get him back?" Scott shook his head, he couldn't believe that things would get that bad.  They were going the wrong direction, Scott realized as he sniffed the air but before he could say anything Issac said._

_"Turn around." Derek did as asked, turned around and took_ _a_ _road going to the right when Issac told him to. There was a lot of that going around, trail and error. All the fumbling around was putting them even further behind Stiles. Scott looked at the back of Derek's head for a long moment._

_"Would you do it?" he asked. "If Stiles wants to be a werewolf would you do it?"_ _Derek_ _answered right away._

_"Yes,_ _why else would I suggest it?_ _"_ _The_ _re_ _wasn't anymore talk after that, Scott and Issac were fully focused on finding Stiles and Derek's focus was on driving. Scott could smell that they were getting close but when they actually caught sight of him Scott's heart dropped out of his chest as he saw Stiles on top of guardrail._

Scott snapped back to himself. That had been the scariest moment of his life and Scott had seen a lot of scary things in his short life. Some of his scariest life events included Peter and the Kanima. But Scott would rather face both of them again then see Stiles, his best friend, about to kill himself again. Scott unconsciously ran his hand around Stiles' back in small circles as he was lost in his thoughts.

He was starting to get tired. Sleep hadn't been on his list of priorities and he hadn't slept really at all last night when Stiles had. Instead, he had been trying to wrap his head around everything. Something that  he was still trying to do. He had also spent a few hours researching anorexia, bulimia and self-harming. Yet he still felt no more prepared to deal with Stiles then he had before he had researched it. Scott's hand started moving slower as his eyelids started to close and his breathing started to even out. He was in that delicious state of being half awake and half asleep when a sudden ring pulled him forcibly against his will into the realm of the awake.

His eyes snapped opened and after a long moment in which the ring happened three more times, he realized that his phone was ringing. Scott grabbed his phone and looked at the caller ID and cursed. Exactly what he needed at the moment.

 

 

 

 

 


	28. Chapter 28

**Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf.**

**A/N: Sorry it's taken me so long to write this and additionally for the fact that it's not terribly long.**

It was Stiles's father calling again; apparently, he wasn't satisfied with the text Scott had sent him from Stiles' phone that said Stiles was going to spend the night at Scott's house. Which was probably because Scott had forgotten or really hadn't really wanted to call his mom because he A: wasn't sure that his mother would lie for him without him telling her the truth and B: if his mother knew the truth he wasn't sure what she would want him to do.

He didn't want to tell Stiles's Dad about what Stiles had tried to do or what Scott had Derek do in response. Scott did not imagine that conversation going very well. He also didn't want to tell Stiles's Dad about it on the phone;  he had no idea how Stiles would like him telling him at all. But Stiles's father had to know so that he could watch over him carefully make sure that he...didn't do things that just thinking about Stiles doing that to himself made him want to cry again. However, he had already cried too much that day so he worked hard on blinking back the tears.

Scott looked back down at Stiles' small frame, and then to Derek and Issac who were staring at them from a few feet away. They had to go home, Scott realized. It wouldn't do much good for Stiles to wake up in this place. It would probably freak him out and mentally scar him even more. Scott made his way slowly to his feet with Stiles still in his arms. He was too light, way too light. Scott nodded at Derek and Issac who both after a moment nodded back and the two of them headed back towards Derek's Camaro.

However, the smell which he hadn't noticed as much on the way there, (because his focus had been on Stiles), he really noticed on the way back. The smell of burnt flesh which probably wouldn't have so strong if he only had human senses. But as a werewolf, he smelt it very intensely. Scott picked up his pace a little to shorten the amount of time he would have to smell it and quickly found himself outside. He made his way quickly to Derek's Camaro and Derek opened the car door for him.

Scott laid Stiles down slightly scrunched up on the black leather seats, then sat down himself, and closing the door behind him. He heard two doors closing from the front and some seat belts being clicked. But his focus was on Stiles who still had his eyes closed and his breathing was still even. Scott moved Stiles' head so it rested against his leg, hoping that it would mean that Stiles would sleep longer. He needed to sleep longer...and eat more... and talk to him... and- there was so much wrong with him! How in the world was Scott ever going to be able to help him get through all this?! He heard a throat clearing from in front of him.  He was so absorbed in watching Stiles that he jumped. After a moment he realized that the voice the throat clearing belonged to was Derek's.

"So, where are we going?" Derek was turned around to face Scott from the driver's seat asked softly keeping his voice down so that Stiles could sleep. Scott looked between Stiles and Derek a few times, like one of them would tell him what to do. But Derek had asked the question in the first place and Stiles's was still asleep. He changed to looking at Issac who just looked back at him expectantly. Why was it up to him? He closed his eyes briefly as he realized the answer. It was because he was Stiles's best friend. Scott had known him forever and since Stiles's wasn't up to the task of deciding what to do next, it was up to Scott. Whether he liked it or not. He had to do what was best for his friend, even if his friend didn't like it, and no matter much it was going to hurt him to say it aloud to someone that cared as much for Stiles as he did.

"Beacon hills," he said softly. But he knew he didn't need to say it any louder because the loudest sound in the car was the sound of Stiles' soft breathing. Derek nodded and turned back around and started the car and drove off.

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	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I've been really busy.

Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf

Scott didn't look away from Stiles who was still sleeping. However, Scott's eyes wandered away from Stile's face where they had started to Stile's chest. Stiles' chest was covered in dried blood from when he had attacked his chest when he had leaped out of the car earlier that day. How had it only been a day since Issac had run into his classroom? It felt like years, like a lifetime. He would have to get Stiles a new shirt before they took Stiles' home, he didn't want Stiles's Dad to panic since it was not a small amount of dried blood on his chest. Scott closed his eyes and grimaced as the memory of Stiles's slashing into his chest with his claws came into his mind again.

He forced his thoughts away from the memory but kept his eyes closed. He was so tired,  the exhaustion that he felt before Stiles' dad had called settled in him again. Scott tried to fight it, Stiles needed him. However, another part of him argued that Stiles was asleep and he couldn't do anything to help him if he was too tired. Scott was so exhausted that he listened to the second part of him and the low steady rumble of the engine lured him asleep.

"Ahhhhh!" Scott jolted up and was immediately wide awake as he listened to Stiles's scream which filled the car. Stiles's eyes were closed but only for a second before they popped wide open and stared at him in terror, his breathing fast and hard. But at the same time, Scott knew that Stiles wasn't seeing him but something far different and far darker. Stiles's eyes then darted around the car seeming to take in his surroundings, his breathing only slightly lessened and he turned toward Derek.

"Stop the car!" Stiles demanded.

"Stiles what's wrong?!" Scott asked worried as Derek slid the Camaro from one lane of the freeway to another and then to the side of the road. Stiles didn't wait for the car to stop completely before jumping out of the car and running into a thicket of scraggly trees that looked like they had seen better days. However, Scott cared little about the state of the trees and cared more about the fact that Stiles was out of sight.

Scott's heart stopped for a moment thinking it was going to be a repeat of the last time. Scott scrambled out of the car, he absently noted two doors open and close behind him. Scott ran a few feet before stopping abruptly as he saw that Stiles had not run off into the forest. His friend was only just barely into the forest, enough that he was obscured on the side of the road. His relief that Stiles hadn't run away died quickly as he saw what was happening.

Stiles was on his hands and knee apparently dry heaving. Tears pricked at the corner of Scott's eyes as he watched his friend trying but failing to bring anything and the harsh sounds he was making.

Not knowing what else to do or say, he closed the short distance between him and Stiles and put his hand on his friend's back. He rubbed the hand around in small circles hoping that the little bit of comfort he was offering Stiles would somehow make it all better but knowing at the same time that it wouldn't. A cold breeze hit them and Scott became aware again that Stiles had ripped into Scott's chest as well, while the rest of shirt stubbornly stayed on the part covering his chest was in shreds.

It took a few more minutes for the dry heaving to subside.  When it did Scott slowly made his way around Stiles so that he could look at his face. Stiles wasn't looking up, he was looking at the ground, at the spot where should Stiles have had anything in his body, he would have thrown it up.  They had to stop for food, because even if Stiles was going to throw up regardless, it was better that he throw something up.  Dry heaving wasn't really great on the body. He knelt down next to Stiles so they were at the same eye level but Stiles still avoided his eyes.

"Stiles," Scott asked softly. His friend didn't look at him, he just kept his eyes on the same spot...almost like he was avoiding his gaze.

"Stiles?" Scott asked louder, yep definitely avoiding his gaze. He didn't know what to do...so he decided to listen to his gut and forced Stiles to look at him. But even with Scott holding his face Stiles still wouldn't look him in the eye.

"Stiles talk to me." Stiles' eyes momentarily met his and for one moment that seemed to last for an eternity, he could see the pain, the pain that cut straight into his heart before Stiles looked away again.

"Stiles," he tried again.

"We should get back to the car," Stiles said jerked his head away from Scott's hold and started back towards the car. Scott shook his head confused, they had been making progress Stiles had really exposed himself was he hiding away again?

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	30. Chapter 30

A/N: I'm sorry that this is so short. I promise the next one will at least be twice as long but at least it's quick which is better than last time.

Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf.

It had been a very awkward silent 30 minutes since they had gotten back into the car and Stiles had declined to respond to anything that Scott said. Scott was not a fan of that since part of him worried it meant that his friend was back to being mute, even though he was pretty sure that wasn't the case. They were getting closer and closer to Beacon Hills and Scott had no idea how to get Stiles to talk to him, or what he was going to say to Stiles's father when they did get back. He heard a loud growl and thought for a moment one of them was growling when he realized it was his stomach. He realized he hadn't eaten anything since last night and he had been so worried about Stiles that he only had a couple of granola bars. He looked at Stiles and realized that only thing he had eaten since lunch yesterday was a single bite of granola and even that he had thrown up. He had forgotten that he had to get some food into Stiles as soon as possible.

"Derek, we should eat," he said shortly. Scott could see Derek's head minutely nod and knew that Derek had heard him. He looked at Stiles again, he looked so thin and with his shirt ripped that there wasn't anything to hide how skinny he was. He looked away unable to take the very now open reminder of how badly he had failed as Stiles's friend. He noticed Derek slide the car over a few lanes and exited the freeway stopping at a red light.

"What do you want to eat?" Scott asked. Stiles who didn't look at him just kept staring out the window. His friend had never really been overweight, but he had always been a big fan of food.

"Stiles?" he asked again even though he was pretty sure that he was going to get the same answer and he had gotten the last time and he was right. Scott sighed and said.

"Do one of you two want to pick?" he wasn't up for picking somewhere to eat. While his body was hungry he wasn't very much excited by the idea of food at the moment. However, he knew he was going to need energy for the very bad day they were going to have ahead of them.

His phone rung again and Scott took it out of his pocket and winced, it wasn't Stiles Dad but it was his mother. She had called several times since Scott had skipped out of school and then hadn't come home. She also wasn't okay with a just a text message that said he was okay and that he had some things that he needed to take care of. This was such a big mess. The car started forward and Scott winced again as they passed a couple of stores on the right side of the road, all of them advertising for something he had forgotten completely about until he saw the signs. It was Thanksgiving. Well, at least they weren't missing school Scott thought dryly.

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	31. Chapter 31

Disclaimer: I Don't own Teen Wolf.

Thanksgiving, it seemed like it had taken forever and no time at all to reach it. They had planned on eating at Rob's Diner, one of the few restaurants that were open during the Thanksgiving holiday. It was a tradition they had had since Scott's Dad left and Stiles' Mom had died; since nurses and sheriff/police officers tended to have a hard time getting holidays off. The four of them would eat together and share stories and laughs. While it wasn't a big dinner with all their extended family like most of the other people got, it was small and intimate and Scott enjoyed it every year.

Derek turned left at the next light.  Apparently, he had some idea of where they were headed and was either keeping it himself or Scott wasn't paying attention when he had said it aloud. Scott didn't really care where they went, they just had to get some food into Stiles. Even as a werewolf Stiles needed food to live and his friend had eaten very little food. There might even be nothing inside of him to keep him going and they needed to fix that as soon as possible. Derek pulled into a parking lot and after a quick glance at his rear view mirror went into the drive through. There were a few cars ahead of them in the line. Going through the drive through was a very good idea since both he and Stiles were sporting blood and torn shirts.  In fact, hopefully, no one saw them or they might think that he and Stiles were murderers or something.

"Tell me what you want now or you're not getting anything," Derek demanded. Scott could see through the glass on Stiles' side car door Stiles smirk for a moment before it faded away. Issac gave his order and Scott spouted off something for himself that he wasn't even sure what he asked for. Scott turned to Stiles who faced the window and seemed for the moment completely oblivious.

"Stiles?" Scott asked softly and when that didn't get an answer. "Stiles what do you want to eat?" he still didn't answer and Scott sighed.

"Stiles if you don't pick something I'm going to pick for you," he said resigned and sighed again when Stiles refused to answer again.

"Just get him a hamburger and fries,"he said resigned and Derek nodded. As they waited in the car for their chance to move in the line Scott mind went back to a Thanksgiving from back before Stiles had been taken. Way back before Scott had been turned into a werewolf.

_They were in a drive through similar to the current one also waiting for their turn to advance in the line. Scott turned to Stiles incredulously._

_"Dude we're having Thanksgiving dinner in like 2 hours." Stiles shrugged and grinned at him._

_"I'm hungry, I must have worked up an appetite." Scott looked at him incredulously again._

_"We played video games for the last few hours." Stiles grinned at him._

_"Exactly, And I want a little snack," Scott laughed at his friend as they moved up another car length._

_"What's taking them so long?" Scott groused looking up the long line of cars in front of them._

_"To some, Thanksgiving is like a 5K, you have to prepare for it months ahead of time so you can fit the maximum amount in. It's like stretching for them," Stiles said with a grin._

_"Is that why we're here?" Scott asked eyebrows raised. Stiles laughed and shook his head._

_"I do love food, but no I'm not that obsessed," Scott grinned at him._

_"I don't know, I see the looks you give it sometimes, it rivals the look_ _s_ _you send Lydia's way." Stiles glared at him for a moment then shrugged_ _like he agreed_ _as he moved up_ _in the line._ _Leaving them two cars length from getting to the ordering box._

_"Hey, what do you want to eat?" Stiles asked Scott who laughed._

_"We're having Thanksgiving dinner in two hours. I think I'll wait till then," Stiles shrugged then grinned_

_"Suit yourself, that just means more for me." Scott laughed again as  they moved up again in line._ _They spent the next minute or so in companionable silence until the car in front of them moved up again and Stiles moved into place in front of the speaker box._

_"Can I take your order?" an entirely too chipper young female voice came from the speaker. She seemed vaguely irritated. Of course, he would be irritated too if he had to work Thanksgiving. He normally had holidays off unless there was a veterinary emergency and Deaton needed his help, but that didn't happen very often._

_"Yeah I'll have a double-double and a Neapolitan shake," Stiles ordered breaking Scott from his thoughts._

_"Would you like anything else with that?"_ _S_ _tiles paused for a few moments seeming to_ _debate_ _adding more but just shook his head and said._

_"No that's all."_

_"Alright, that will be_ _$5.70 at the window."_

_"Thanks," Stiles said and pulled forward. Scott stared at Stiles for a long moment before he turned around and asked._

_"What?"_

_"Right, a little snack." Stiles made a childish face at him and-_

Scott jerked from his memory as someone put something into his hand. He took in the scene and realized that Issac had just handed the bag of food. Had they already gotten the food? Scott shook his head trying to clear the memory from it, but he was unsuccessful. 

That had been Stiles, his best friend not this husk of who Stiles used to be. What if Stiles was never like he was again like he claimed? What if Stiles was never like he was? Scott felt very guilty for thinking it and did his best to push the memory and the thoughts to the back of his mind. Instead, he tried for a long moment to remember what he had ordered and placed it to the side, taking out the hamburger and fries he had ordered for Stiles. The last time he had wanted to get Stiles to eat had gone very smoothly, except all that all Stiles had eaten was a single bite which he had thrown up not long after. He needed to get Stiles to eat both.

"Stiles," he started hoping that this would go well, that Stiles would rip it out of hands and eat with the fervor that at times had scared him. Stiles didn't even glance away from his window.  Scott sighed as he knew that he had an uphill battle ahead of him.  Scott felt like all he said in the last few hours to Stiles was his name, which Stiles had ignored every single time since waking up. It was annoying, but Scott did his best to keep the annoyance in check, reminding himself what Stiles had gone through, and then immediately trying to push it into the back of his mind.

"Stiles you need to eat," Scott said getting right to the heart of the matter, too exhausted to do much more beating around the bush. Stiles still didn't look at him, and Scott huffed angrily then took a deep breath trying to keep his cool. He forced Stiles to turn and look at him.

"Eat," he demanded going more the Derek route since Stiles used to respond very well to it. Stiles just avoided looking at him again and gave no indication that he heard or understood what Scott had said. Scott huffed,  he knew he had to be patient and that he shouldn't get mad, but he was tired and hungry so what came out of his mouth was this.

"Stiles if you don't eat it I'll force you to eat it," Scott threatened. He was serious, though.  Maybe (probably) not the way to go, but with Stiles having so little in his system, if he didn't eat anything then Stiles still even with being a werewolf could die. Scott wasn't going to let that happen! 

Stiles without looking at him took the burger from Scott's hand and took it out of its wrapper. His friend stared at the burger with a grimace on his face, but he bit into it regardless. It was a small bite and one that took Stiles forever to chew. Scott waited until Stiles finished the bite to see if he was going to have to cajole him to take every single bite, or Stiles would keep going by himself. To his relief, Stiles took another small bite and started chewing it again. Scott breathed a sigh of relief, opened his own food and ate it as he watched Stiles eat. Stiles had none of the messiness or the speed that he used to, but at least he was eating. Best of all, for the moment, it was staying down and that as much as Scott could do


	32. Chapter 32

Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf.

They were about 10 minutes away now. For most of the drive, since the drive through, Scott had watched Stiles painstakingly slowly eat his food. So far it was staying down, but Scott wasn't really sure how much longer that would last. He was hoping it would never come up, but he also was pretty sure a habit or problem like that probably wouldn't go away overnight, much less in a few hours.

Scott felt a bit like throwing up himself. He had texted his Mom that he had something to take care of and texted Stiles' Dad to stay at his house because he and Stiles would come to him. He was not looking forward to the upcoming conversation. He had tried to bring up the idea to Stiles that his Dad needed to know what was going on with him and that it would sound better and should come from him. But Stiles treated it like any other conversation they had in the Camaro on the way back from...there... with complete and utter silence. Scott wished that he knew what was going on in his friends head. If he knew that then maybe he could actually help him, rather than just sitting here hoping that what he was doing was the right thing and not something that would make it even worse.

Derek switched from one freeway to another. Their exit was coming up soon and so was the talk. Scott looked at Stiles again to see if Stiles was alert enough to know how close they were to his house. If he was he didn't show it and just continued staring out his window. Scott took in a few deep breaths to calm himself as they exited the freeway and came up more familiar sights. Stores and places that all had memories attached to them, memories of happy days. He wondered if he and Stiles would ever have one of those again?

Scott closed his eyes and shook his head slightly. Of course, they would. Stiles would get over this, Stiles was strong. If anyone could beat something like this it was Stiles. When he opened his eyes he realized they were a lot closer to Stiles's house than he expected them to be. In what seemed like no time at all Derek parked his vehicle in the gutter in front of the Stilinski household. For a moment nothing happened and they all just stayed still. Scott was looking at the Stilinski's yard all covered in yellow, orange and brown leaves about ankle deep. Usually, it was Stiles's job to rake the leaves, and the last time Scott had tried to do it for Mr. Stilinski the look that Mr. Stilinski had given him had cemented the fact that he wasn't going to do it again.

"Stiles we have to go in," Scott tried again more patient after having eaten himself. Stiles looked up for a moment clearly hearing him this time, only to look back down.

"Come on Stiles... Please, I don't want to have to drag you out of the car," Scott pleaded. He was tired of forcing Stiles to look at him or to eat, he didn't want to have to add this to the list. Stiles after a long moment opened his door and took a step outside. As he closed his door, Scott sighed a breath of relief and got out of the car as well. Issac and Derek were both unbuckling their seat belts when Scott said.

"You guys should probably go," Scott said reluctantly. He wished he could have someone else to back him up since Stiles seemed completely uninterested in doing the talking, but he knew it was something that should just be him, Stiles and Stiles's Dad.

"You sure?" Issac asked, Scott gave a slight smile to his friend for offering but shook his head anyways.

"Alright, you need anything..." he let it hang and Derek nod meant he'd do the same. Scott appreciated it and knew it would probably be much needed in the days to come. But for now, he was going to have to handle this one solo- no matter how much he didn't want to. Stiles stared at his house making no move to go any closer to it, then he already was. Scott hoped he wouldn't have to push him to get him into the house, but if he had to he would.

"Stiles? We got to go inside?" Stiles showed no signs of moving and his breathing quickened a little bit. Scott crossed the short distance between the two of them and put his hand on his shoulder meaning for it to be reassuring...only to have Stiles flinch and back up a few steps. It stung that Stiles reacted that way his touch but he understood where Stiles was coming from and tried to not let it bother him too much. Stiles closed his eyes and looked like he was in pain, then opened them with a new kind of panic settling in.  Stiles dashed into his house at nearly werewolf speed, leaving a very surprised Scott behind.  Scott blinked and then rushed in after him, wondering what had caused his sudden reversal from not wanting to go anywhere near the house to running inside of it.

He got his answer when he followed Stiles through his living room and kitchen, past a very alarmed looking Mr. Stilinki,  up the stairs, past his bedroom, and into the bathroom. Scott managed to stop before he entered the bathroom as well, not willing to see his friend throw up for the third time that day. Still, he could hear the sounds and it was nearly as bad as seeing it.  It all became worse when he  heard a second set of feet coming up the stairs and going past him to look at Stiles in the bathroom. He turned back around immediately and immediately set his father/sheriff eyes on Scott.

"Is my son drunk?" Stiles' father demanded.  Scott closed his eyes for a brief moment if only it were that simple. This was not the way he had been hoping on telling Stiles's father.  He really wished he wasn't the one that had to tell him, but it was and he did. He opened his eyes and stared into Stiles father's eyes. The man had been like a father to him in many ways since his own father had left.

"No sir, he's not drunk," Scott said softly.

"Then why is he throwing up?" Mr. Stilinski demanded. He would have preferred more time to work up to it, but he supposed that it was a good thing that he would have to jump right in.

"Because he can't seem to keep down food for more than a couple of hours," Scott said honestly and waited for the fur to fly.

"What are you talking about?" Mr. Stilinski asked after a long moment. Scott wasn't sure if he could say it again, but he paused to gather up his strength.

"He eats very little and what little he does eat he throws up."

"No, that can't be true," Mr. Stilinski said with a shake of his head clearly unwilling to believe what Scott was saying,

"Issac saw him at school and I've seen a few times since..." Mr. Stilinski stared at him for a long moment different emotions flickering in his eyes, worry, guilt and then it finally settled on anger he then demanded,

"Where have you been for the last 27 hours!" Mr. Stilinski shouted and Scott winced, not sure how well his taking Stiles to the scene of the crime would go over with Mr. Stilinski. If he had to venture a guess he would guess not well. Not to mention the fact that in order to tell that part of the story, he had to tell the other part of the story first. The part of the story that made his own stomach roil to think about, not the smell coming from the bathroom was helping any. He took in a deep breath.

"That's a really long story and if I tell it, you can't interrupt or I don't think I'll be able to finish it." Mr. Stilinski stared at him for a long moment and then nodded. Scott wondered briefly if he would actually stay quiet, but started anyway. 

"Okay, so Issac and Stiles have English together. It's one of the few classes that me or any of our other friends don't have classes with him.  Apparently, Stiles had been leaving every single class for awhile." Mr. Stilinski looked confused about where he was going with this but Scott hurried on leaving no space for Mr. Stilinski to interject. "So one day- well yesterday." Scott still didn't understand how it could be yesterday, it felt like weeks or years ago but it had been yesterday. "Issac followed him into the bathroom where he was doing this...and something else." He wasn't sure if he could say the other thing, it hurt just to think about Stiles doing that himself. But not only to say it aloud but to his Dad made it seem that much worse. Scott swallowed a sob that had been working its way up his throat. He had to tell him. Mr. Stilinski had to know what his son had been doing to himself, even if he didn't want to say it aloud. He found himself looking at the ground unable to say it directly to Mr. Stilinski's face.

"Stiles has been hurting himself...on purpose," Scott said slowly.

"What?" Mr. Stilinski said his voice sounded choked and devastated, not unlike Scott had felt after he had gotten over the denial of the situation yesterday. Scott wasn't even done yet. He really wasn't sure whether or not he was going to be able to say the rest. Images flashed before his eyes, ones he tried his hardest not to think about. Stiles standing on top of that guardrail, only one hand keeping him from tumbling down. Scott closed his eyes tightly for a moment trying to get the memory to leave his mind. He opened his eyes a few moments later when he able to push the memory far back enough.

"Issac confronted him about it, and then Stiles left the school, and Issac came and got me from class. We called Derek." That seemed like a mistake now. He probably should have called Mr. Stilinski, but he hadn't really been thinking about who would be the best person and just told Issac to call the first person he thought of that owned a car and knew about Stiles. "We searched for him by...by scent...and we found him." Scott did not want to say this next part. He didn't want to say it at all but he knew that Mr. Stilinski needed to know.

"He was...he was going to..." The words seemed to not want to come out and Scott didn't really want to say it either, because it would bring back the memories of that night... which somehow had only been last night, which meant that the memories were still fresh.

_"Stay back." The first words he heard Stiles say since he had been rescued. He would have been excited except that Stiles was standing on a guardrail and was one step from falling into oblivion. He didn't stay back, in fact, he went forward, only to hear words that coming from Stiles made Scott's heart stop._

_"If any of you take another step towards me, I swear I'll jump." Scott forced himself to stop even though he didn't want to and looked at his friend with pleading eyes._

_"Stiles please don't do this," Scott begged fiercely as tears fell from his eyes. He couldn't handle it if he lost Stiles, Stiles was his best friend._

_"I...I have to do this." Stiles said._

Then his memory skipped a bit just including the part that Stiles had said the stuff that had torn at his heart.

_"You don't understand Scott! This will never get better! I'm broken! I'm shattered! You can never put all the pieces back together!"_

_"We can't, cause I'm not Stiles...I'm not him anymore and I don't think I can ever be again. This is all I am now, this person who's only joy in life is hurting himself. Seriously what kind of life it that? That's the kind of life you want to protect?"_

_"Scott it's like my entire life before happened to someone else. I have the memories but it...it doesn't feel like me."_

_"I'm not Stiles...I can't feel the way that Stiles did it's like...they.."_ _"They broke me Scott... and I don't think that you or anyone else can fix me."_

_"There's nothing to try it won't work...I'm just too weak... too broken" Stiles said shaking his head._

_"What if it doesn't work? What if everything's the same?"_

The memory also reminded him of yet another he had to tell Mr. Stilinski; that one was slightly easier to tell, so he decided he was going to tell it before he said the part that was really going to take the wind out of his sails.

"Stiles is a werewolf," Scott said just spitting it out, then he winced. He probably could have beaten around the bush a little more on that one, since it was a pretty important thing.

"What?" Mr. Stilinski said sounding livid. Yeah, without the other part of the equation that sounded pretty reckless, and not the only thing that three of them could come up with to save Stiles from killing himself.

"He's a werewolf." Mr. Stilinski seemed angry, but he was trying to take deep breaths.

"Why? I thought he didn't want to be a werewolf?"

"He didn't...but he did then," Scott said awkwardly. It wasn't going to make sense until he told the part that he was avoiding.

"So Stiles ran away form school and then texted you that he wanted to be a werewolf?" Mr. Stilinski asked incredulously but apparently trying to understand. Which made Scott remember that Stiles had spoken and while he hadn't used his new found ability much in the car on the way back, he had when he wanted to get out to throw up so he was pretty sure he could still speak. It was one plus side in a million of downsides.

"Stiles spoke," Scott said, even though the first things he had spoken had torn into his heart.

"Really? He's speaking again?" Mr. Stilinski sounded so hopeful. Maybe he had forgotten everything else Scott had told him? Or maybe he was just happy there was something about this that didn't suck as much. Either way, he had yet to hear the most devastating piece of information. Everything else had been very difficult to say, but he was pretty sure that this piece of information would be the most difficult piece yet. Scott bit his lip and looked down at the carpet again, unsure if he could say the last part, even though he knew that Mr. Stilinski had to know so Stiles would eventually get better. He wished Stiles could be the one telling Mr. Stilinski, but he knew it was up to him. Scott took a series of deep breaths trying to calm himself down so that he didn't cry while he was saying it. He looked up for a second to Mr. Stilinski expectant and worried eyes then back down to the carpet. Yes, the carpet was much better to look at.

"I uh...he uh...he t-" Scott took a deep breath trying to keep his voice calm and himself collected. "He tried to-he tried to..." He took in another deep breath "Derek turned him, because it was the only way," he said trying to say it another way. He looked to see if Mr. Stilinski understood what he was saying but Mr. Stilinski only looked confused.

"Scott, what are you saying?" Scott winced. Nope, apparently he hadn't gotten it. He was going to have to speak a little more plainly. Scott took in another deep breath and looked down at the carpet again.

"Derek turned Stiles because it was the only way...it was the only way he wouldn't...that he wouldn't end...his life. There, he had said it. It was out in the world now and he had no idea how Mr. Stilinski was going to react and what he should do to help him. But he was pretty sure that the first step was to stop looking at the carpet and look at Mr. Stilinski. He slowly raised his eyes from the carpet to Mr. Stilinski face which was filled with shock and his eyes were full of tears that hadn't quite fallen yet but were teetering on the edge of doing so.

"He what?" he shook his head "No, no my son...he wouldn't do that." Scott bit his lip as he watched Mr. Stilinski slowly fall apart. "No. No!" He fell onto his knees and the movement started tears flowing from his eyes. Scott wasn't sure what to do. Mr. Stilinski was an unrelated adult male and he wasn't sure if he would appreciate a hug or not. Mr. Stilinski just covered his eyes with his hands and started mumbling words like "Why? Why didn't I see it? I should have known. It's my fault, it's my fault." As Mr. Stilinski kept mumbling, Scott suddenly became aware that something was wrong, he just couldn't put his finger on it right away.

"Sh!" Scott suddenly said noting there wasn't any sound coming from the bathroom anymore, not even a heart beat. Crap! Stiles wasn't there and they were right outside the bathroom, so there was no way he left through the house. However, Scott was well aware of the fact that the bathroom had a window. Normally the window was a bit too small for Stiles to fit through, but he was terribly skinny. Normally the fall would have stopped Stiles, because the nearest tree was about 7 feet away, but now that Stiles was a werewolf he could make the jump easily. Stiles must have opened the window some time while they were talking and jumped away. Scott rounded the corner and found what he was expecting, but he was hoping at the same time that he was wrong. An empty bathroom with the window opened, Stiles had jumped out of the window. Scott was going to have to find him again, great. He heard footstep behind him and a sharp intake of breath.

"He's gone," Scott said unnecessarily, because anyone could see that Stiles was no long in the room.


	33. Chapter 33

 Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf.

Okay so admittedly telling Stiles's Dad all about all of Stiles's problems right in front of Stiles- well just out of sight, but loud enough that even if Stiles hadn't been a werewolf he probably still could have heard the entire conversation probably wasn't the smartest move on his part. But honestly sometime during the conversation Scott had forgotten that Stiles was within earshot, He knew he couldn't fit through the bathroom window and instead made his way to Stiles room. Stiles's window was wide enough to fit though, he and Derek had both come through Stiles's window. He grabbed one of Stiles's shirt off the ground just in case, then he opened the window and had one foot out when he heard.

"Scott." he turned to see Mr. Stilinski.

"Call me and let me know when you find him." Scott nodded and jumped out of the window and to the nearest tree. He looked both ways to see if he could see him and when he didn't he knew he was going to have to go by scent, he took in a deep inhale of Stiles's shirt and he had his scent now all he had to was find him.

Stiles felt like he was going crazy. He had too many thoughts racing around in his head, most of them the complete opposite of each other. He felt guilty for what he had put the people he was closest to through... but he also wanted to do it again more than anything, despite the fact that they would know now. Stiles was walking down a residential street a few streets away from his own heading in no particular direction, so long as it was away from his house. He was glad that after he had leapt out of the bathroom window he had gone into his room and pulled on the first hoodie he could find, which happened to be his red hoodie. He had the hoodie zipped all the way up and it hid all the blood that he had still yet to clean off, part of him didn't want to. The hoodie swamped him, going to his mid-thigh when it used to go his hips.

He ran his fingers up and down his ribs. He could feel the bones jutting out. He had known he was losing weight and becoming colder, but he had never really thought about it. Except in terms that if they found out about the throwing up they could find out about the cutting. He stopped for a moment and stared at the orange, yellow and brown leaves in the trees and on the ground. When had the trees started to change color? He hadn't noticed at all. His thoughts had been centered on very few specific things.

_Lie to everyone. Pretend I'm okay so that when they think I'm fine and they aren't looking, then I can hurt myself to feel better. Hide the scars. Hide the fact that food tastes like ash. Hide the fact that you can't keep the food down for more than a few hours tops._

Stiles stopped and looked through a window. He probably wouldn't have been able to see inside so clearly if he wasn't a werewolf. Thanksgiving, it was thanksgiving.

He returned back to the werewolf thing which still hadn't quite sunken in, other then apparently his claws were sharp, but not sharp enough to hurt him long enough for him to feel the relief he craved. Now that he was a werewolf, the only way he could get what he craved was to get Derek to attack him, and annoyingly enough he hadn't. Still, the guilt was seeping in.  He felt guilty for trying to get Derek to attack him and even more guilty for attacking Scott so viciously. He didn't want to feel the guilt anymore, but he couldn't think of any way to stop the feelings. He couldn't relieve it in the way he was accustomed to.

Stiles focused again on the window he had stopped to look into. There was a family of five sitting down to a somewhat early Thanksgiving dinner. The Mother and the Father were both in the early to mid-thirties. The Father had dark brown hair and the mother blond. The children were two girls and boy. The oldest girl appeared be around 14 and had blond hair like her mother. The boy seemed to be the next oldest and seemed to be around 9 and had dirty blond hair. The last girl also had dirty blond hair and seemed to be around 4. They were all smiling, they seemed to have a care in the world, shoveling food into their mouth like if they didn't eat it quickly enough it would go away.

He glared at them. He despised them. He didn't even know their names and he despised them simply for the fact that they were happy, and he was miserable and he had no way to fix it this time around. He swung his hand into the nearest item to him which happened to be tree, he made a sizable hole in said tree. There was pain and Stiles enjoyed it, but the pain was sadly short lived. By the time he pulled his hand out of the tree, the pain was much lessened then, he would have liked it to be.

Stiles shook his head that had to be something he could do, something that would make it better, if only for a little bit. He had an idea one that he hoped would work. It had worked somewhat last time and that was good enough for him. He let his instinct guide him slowly from the residential area to the woods. As bitter as he was the only person he wanted to hurt physically at the moment was himself. He made his way deep into the woods using his werewolf speed a bit to make the process go quicker. When he was far away enough from the rest of civilization he let his wolf pretty much take over.

Review please :)

 


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf.
> 
> A/N: Sorry that it's a bit short.

Scott followed Stiles scent from the streets back into the forest. The forest he really didn't want to go into again, but he had to. He had to find Stiles make sure that he didn't do something stupid. He was hyper-vigilant for any sound like a snap of a twig or any slight rustling, or crunch of leaves being stepped on. Any time he caught one of the sounds he sped up, and unfortunately most of the time all he caught was an animal looking at him in terror. The glowing yellow eyes didn't help. He made his way deeper into the dark forest and he knew that he was closing in. Stiles's scent was very strong now, along with another scent that felt familiar like he should know but couldn't quite figure it out.

He stopped as he caught sight of Stiles. The something that was off about his scent became apparent after a couple of moments. He wasn't able to tell at first look since the jacket that Stiles was wearing was red too but after a moment he noticed the blood on it. Scott stepped to the side and came to view more of Stiles' since he was facing slightly away from him. Yep, it was definitely blood. Was it his own? Another couple of sniffs and he figured out that there were three different types of blood on Stiles. Two older ones his own and Stiles and one brand new and still congealing.

Scott looked at him full of new kind of concern who's blood was on Stiles?. Stiles didn't hurt anyone, did he? He didn't think so although he couldn't say why. He took another step and saw for the first time Stiles's mouth which was surrounding by blood. He also noticed that Stiles was wolfed out, his yellow eyes staring at something in the distance. However, as soon as Stiles's eyes focused on him the yellow eyes faded into their normal color. Which was good he supposed, he was dealing with Stiles and not his wolf counterpart.

"Stiles," Scott said slowly and carefully. "Who's blood is that?" he asked hoping the answer would not be some innocent person's blood. That was the last thing that Stiles needed to deal with at the moment was having hurt someone. Stiles looked at him for a long minute, then blinked and to his confusion and discomfort started laughing a loud, long boisterous laugh. A laugh that he hadn't heard for a long time but a laugh that was kind of freaking him out due to the fact that Stiles was standing in the woods covered in blood. Had his friend just finally cracked?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Review Please :)


	35. Chapter 35

He had kind of sunk into his mind while allowing the werewolf to take over. Sometimes when he wished to venture slightly from the interior of his mind he saw himself running and jumping over this and that.  Later, there was a flash of brown, then something red. But he stayed inside his mind until he heard Scott say his name, it pulled him from the interior of his mind to the real world. Scott was looking at him horrified. He wondered why for a few moments before he caught the smell in the air then he knew why. He was used to the first two smells of blood,: his own and Scott's, but now there was a new one mixed in. Did he hurt someone? A flash went through his mind and he had a clear image of a little brown rabbit and knew with a certainty that he had eaten a rabbit. That should have made feel horrified or disgusted, but the only thing he could think about was the conversation Scott and Stiles had not so long ago, but it felt like a lifetime. They had been in school sitting in desks but he couldn't remember which class they had been in.

"Maybe you caught a rabbit or something?" 

"And did what?"

"Ate it."

"Raw?"

"No, you stopped to bake it in a little werewolf oven," his voice came back sarcastically. Scott hadn't found his comment funny at the moment but Stiles did now. He started laughing and couldn't seem to stop. He couldn't even remember the last time he had laughed, really laughed, not the bitter laugh that had been the closest thing he had got to a real laugh lately. He kept laughing even though it wasn't as funny as his laugh would make others think. Scott looked at him terrified, probably thinking Stiles had finally lost it, since he had no idea what he was remembering. 

Maybe he was right? Maybe he had finally gone insane since he couldn't seem to stop laughing. Eventually, though the laughing devolved into what it had been masking all along. He was crying. He didn't know what to do. Didn't know how to make any of this better, and now his Dad knew. Stiles had listened as Scott had told his Dad everything,  all about his problems.  The guilt was back in full force. He was so messed up, had so many problems, one of them being he couldn't eat.

He supposed his werewolf side didn't have that problem. Okay, now the fact that he had just eaten a rabbit was hitting him.  Stiles felt disgusted and horrified. He had eaten a rabbit, an innocent rabbit. Stiles had never killed anything larger than a spider and spiders were creepy with their long skinny legs and the way they moved….that wasn't the point. He had eaten a rabbit. A rabbit and his life had been twisted into this mess, this big mess that he didn't know how to clean up and wasn't even sure that he wanted to clean up. It seemed easier to just stop living, to just give up like he had tried to do that night. His mom words came to him, though.

 _"Nothing worth doing is easy,"_ she would tell him that when he would do his homework and couldn't understand it or focus enough on it, before he had been put on Adderall. Everything about his life at the moment certainly wasn't easy. But he knew that his mother wouldn't want him to give up. He knew that Scott and his Dad wouldn't either, but he focused on his mother since part of him was still angry at Scott and his Dad for not rescuing him sooner. He didn't want to be angry at them, but couldn't seem to help it. He couldn't seem to control his emotions at all.

He felt Scott arms around him and realized he had gone completely into his head and stopped paying attention to the outside world. He closed his eyes trying to block everything else, but the warmth of his best friend arms around him. Stiles wanted to run, to hide to be anywhere except here but he stayed. He squeezed his eyes trying to wade through the torrent of emotions, He didn't want to deal with them, he wanted to hide, to pretend nothing had ever happened.

 _Nothing worth doing is easy,_  his mom's words echoed at him. Living, that was definitely the hardest thing at the moment, just living. He had to try though. He had to try to keep living and the only way to do that was for the pain to go away. Which would mean dealing with it, which would mean talking and treatment and...that all sounded much too hard.

 _Nothing worth doing is easy,_ his mother's words came again. He nodded his head, okay, okay he would try... for his mom but he was sure that he couldn't do it alone.. he needed help. He came out of himself again to realize that Scott was still holding him tightly, saying his name every couple of seconds trying to draw him out of his own little world. Stiles met his friend's eyes and Scott stopped saying his name and just looked worried.

"Scott... help me," he whispered so low it was probably beyond the human threshold but Scott heard him.

"Tell me what to do and I'll do it," Scott said instantly.

"Fix me," Stiles said no louder than his last comment.

"I don't know how," Scott admitted, his eyes were full of tears, "But I promise you I will do everything in my power to." Stiles nodded, then closed his eyes as nausea began to rear it's ugly head again.

"Stay with me as I throw up?"

"I'm not going anywhere," Scott promised and helped Stiles to his knees and moved out of the way so that Stiles had room, Stiles smiled for a moment, before it turned into a grimace since he knew what was coming. This time though. Scott put his hand on his shoulder and he allowed himself to take some comfort in it, as he emptied his stomach yet again.

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	36. Chapter 36

When he was finished, he shakily made his way back onto his feet. He had a feeling the only reason he was still function was the fact that he was a werewolf.

"I have to call your Dad," Scott said.  Stiles shook his head, he didn't want to deal with his Dad at the moment. He didn't want to deal with anything but especially not his Dad. "I promised," Scott insisted so after a moment Stiles nodded. He started to feel weak again so he went to a nearby fallen tree and sat on its' trunk. He didn't hear the words that Scott spoke to his father and he didn't want to, though he imagined that Scott had probably told his Dad that he had thrown up yet again. He tucked his knees to his chest or at least tried to, but his position on the log didn't allow for that. So he moved to the ground so that he could pull his knees to his chest like he wanted to. The ground was cold, but not as cold as maybe it would have been if he were still human. He focused on the cold. There were similar elements of pain in the cold, and it wouldn't make Scott unhappy. In fact, he doubted that Scott would even know. It wasn't the same though.

He felt Scott's knees touch his and saw that Scott was sitting in front of him again looking at him nervously.

"Can we not talk?" Stiles asked. He didn't want to talk. He didn't want to be asked questions that he knew Scott would not like the answers to. Scott looked at him for a long moment before nodding.

"For now," Stiles nodded. He knew that he wouldn't be able to get Scott to agree to it for much longer than that, so he had to be happy with what he could get.

"Your Dad's coming to pick us up." Stiles nodded and then looked down at himself; three different kinds of blood.

"Scott," Stiles said biting his lip and looking away, not wanting to see the look on Scott's face when he asked the question that he suddenly felt the urge to ask.

"Yeah?" Came Scott's concerned voice.

"Do you honestly think I can ever be okay?" Because he wasn't sure. It didn't seem like he would ever be okay. "Be like what I was before?" That one seemed even more impossible. However, he wanted to know what Scott thought, what he really thought so he focused on the sound of Scott's heartbeat and not just his words. Scott didn't answer right away and when he still he spoke slowly, seeming to pick his words carefully.

"I think...that if you let...other people in...and actually talk...then eventually you'll be okay...and maybe one day... you can be...close to what you were." Scott didn't lie. It gave him a strange sense of comfort that Scott really honestly thought that he could come back from this. He had always trusted Scott in the past and while Scott's faith in him wasn't exactly the same thing as having faith in himself it gave him a spark of hope. A spark of hope that he could be better, he really hoped that Scott was right in his assessment of him.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry the chapter a bit short the next chapter should be a bit longer and hopefully soon. Review please :)


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf.

Headlights showed up in the distance and Stiles sighed as he realized it was probably his Dad, since he doubted many other people would be out there at this time of night in this season. Stiles needed strength and while he still leery of Scott at the moment, he trusted Scott to a certain extent to help him feel better. He grabbed Scott's hand, before this kind of thing would have made him feel girly or gay but at the moment he didn't care, he needed comfort, and this was the healthier way to go about getting it. The car stopped on the main road which was only a few hundred feet away from them.

"Scott," his Dad's voice called through the forest. Stiles closed his eyes since he knew that Scott was going to answer him back.

"Here Mr, Stilinski," Scott's called out and he heard his father making hurried steps towards the both of them. His spark of hope was fading and he gripped tighter onto Scott to prevent himself from trying to tear open his skin. It was what his mom would want him to do. He heard the steps come to a stop a few feet to the side of them. Stiles knew that his Dad was looking at him even though his eyes were still shut and he couldn't see him. He heard some slight rustling that he couldn't figure out what it meant then heard his father say.

"Stiles open your eyes," he shook his head. It was stupid, he knew it was and that just because he couldn't see his father didn't mean that his father couldn't see him. But he didn't want to see his father's eyes full of disappointment. Because how else could his Dad feel about him? He was a complete failure as a person and as a son. He had let himself be kidnapped, not once but twice.  Both times not even by werewolves or any supernatural creatures but by humans, plain old humans. He was so weak, how could his Dad be anything but disappointed in him?

"Stiles please look at me," his Dad's voice pleaded. He shook his head again, and heard his father sigh.  Stiles knew that he had disappointed his father again. The guilt, fear, and shame were overtaking him again and this time he couldn't just make it go away. His father sighed again.

"Stiles, you're my son. You have always been my son and you will always be my son. Now, please open your eyes so we can talk." Stiles shook his head, he was too weak to be his son. His son should have been able to escape, his son shouldn't have been captured in the first place. He really didn't like these emotions, this fear, and shame, but he had was supposed to try. Why was it so hard? Why was he so weak? He unconsciously tightened his grip on Scott's hand, which wouldn't have been so bad except that he had unconsciously shifted and now his long nails were tearing into the sensitive skin of Scott's hand. Scott hissed and Stiles's eyes flew open. He was hurting Scott, again, he remembered tearing into the skin of his chest in the house not long ago. Had it been the same day? He wasn't sure, time

Why was it so hard? Why was he so weak? He unconsciously tightened his grip on Scott's hand, which wouldn't have been so bad except that he had unconsciously shifted and now his long nails were tearing into the sensitive skin of Scott's palm. Scott hissed and Stiles's eyes flew open. He was hurting Scott, again. He remembered tearing into the skin of his chest in the house not long ago. Had it been the same day? He wasn't sure. Time seemed to pass by differently than what it seemed to before. Stiles instantly let go of Scott's hand and battled the urge to flee again, he shook his head. Scott was his friend, and even though he wasn't sure if he trusted him, he hadn't deserved to be hurt.

"I'm sorry," he said and Scott looked down at his hand.

"It's okay Stiles, it's just a scratch. I'm a werewolf. It'll heal in no time." Scott held up his hand that was no longer bleeding. Stiles shook his head but didn't say anything more, he turned his face towards the ground. Only to find a hand on his chin that slowly and gently lift it back up. His Dad was looking at him, and when Stiles moved his head to turn away from him his Dad moved his head back. He was a werewolf. He could easily overpower his Dad, but he didn't, instead, he closed his eyes again.

"Stiles please look at me. I have something that I need to tell you." He didn't want to but his eyes seemed to open against his will, and he found himself looking in his father's eyes. He searched his father's eyes for shame. Shame of having a son who couldn't fight, who was always getting him into trouble; he had after all for a time cost him his job as sheriff. He looked for disgust that Stiles couldn't fight them off, that he had let them hurt him, that he had eaten from a dog bowl. Stiles felt nauseous again as he was back there for a moment, eating from that dog bowl -before he felt Scott's hand in his and was able to pull himself out of the memory.

"Stiles. I am your father, and I love you no matter what happened in the past, no matter what is going to happen in the future. I need you to know that I am so sorry for what's has happened to you." Stiles felt his eyes watering again and closed his eyes trying to fight back the tears. It was easier when he didn't feel, when it didn't hurt so much.

"Look at me Stiles, I'm not done." Stiles reluctantly opened his eyes, even though his father was blurry now. "You don't have to talk about what happened right now, but you have to know that I love you, and there's nothing that you can do that will make me stop loving you." He seemed to want to do or say something more but managed to keep himself back, which Stiles was grateful for since he wasn't at all ready for anything more then that.

"We're going home," he said. It wasn't a question, it was a command. Stiles broke eye contact again and looked down but nodded. "And we're going to help you," his Dad added.

"How?" he asked, Scott hadn't had an answer but maybe his Dad would.

"For now, what you need is a shower and a good night sleep. We can deal with the rest tomorrow." Stiles nodded and shakily made his way to his feet. He was tired and weak, not a great combination but he able to walk to the short distance to his Dad's vehicle and got into it. He leaned his head against the cool glass and wondered if his Dad and Scott could do what they promised.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment please :)


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf.

 They were a very strange group and they were all his family room. Derek Hale was in his house, and had actually used the front door and not the window. Issac was sitting next to Derek on Scott's green sofa. Lydia, Jackson and Allison sat on the other matching green sofa and Scott sat in a chair he had taken from the kitchen. It was wood and uncomfortable, but comfort was not his aim at the moment.

They were all staring at him- which was understanding because he had called the meeting. He knew what he needed to tell them all, he just didn't exactly know how to say it. He cleared his throat but still the words seemed to be jammed in there, unwilling to come out despite the fact that he needed them to. They all started looking more and more annoyed the longer Scott went without saying anything. He took a deep breath.

"Okay, you all need to know what's going on," Scott spoke as loudly and authoritatively as possible. Now there some looks of confusion mixed in with the looks of irritation and some concern as well.

"Now all of you know something about this, but not all of you know everything," he said then took another deep breath. It was bad enough just knowing about it, saying it aloud was difficult.

"This is about Stiles." All the looks of confusion and irritation went away and were replaced by worry and concern, sympathy- except in Derek's case, his face portrayed only blankness.

"Some of you...he's been...Stiles is not as okay as he has been pretending to be." They all leaned a little further in and Scott took another deep breath "He's well, he hasn't...well he's been-"

"Hurting himself." Issac's voice cut in and Scott nodded at him gratefully "And not really eating, and throwing up and having severe PTSD, depression...and he tried to kill himself." Issac added. There was long silence in the wake of the revelation and Scott looked around the room taking in the others reactions. Issac's and Derek's face showed little reaction, but he supposed mostly because they had seen in person how bad Stiles had gotten. Jackson looked surprised and Alison had her hand covering her open mouth. Lydia, on the other hand, had the most severe reaction she started crying silent tears.

Scott didn't know what to say, he hadn't even known how to tell them Issac had done that.

"We're going to have to be there for him," he finally managed to say, "you know that Stiles would have done the same thing if any of us had gone through the same thing he has." Lydia nodded even as she was crying and he slowly saw the others nod one by one.

"He may do what he did before and try to push you away but you can't let him." Scott continued. "He may not respond to you but you have to keep on trying...because no matter what he or anyone says, Stiles in still in there somewhere and it may take some time but we have to get him out." They all nodded again but this time with determination, even Jackson seemed to take his words to heart and Scott was glad.

~.~

They all said that they could make him feel better and he supposed that they thought they could. However, after hours of being at the doctor being poked and prodded he had been advised to go into a place that did inpatient care for eating disorders. Which his father probably would have made him do, except for the fact that he was a werewolf and he didn't want to go, so they would have a hard time keeping him there. So the doctors had settled for outpatient care. That meant he had to see a shrink 3 times a week for two hours each time. Supposedly, eventually he would be able to cut it down to one one-hour session, but for now three times a week was the price of not going to outpatient care. Which he wasn't fond of, but he supposed it was better than being stuck in an inpatient center having his every move monitored.

Although in that aspect it wasn't much different at home. His door had gone back to being open all the time, even during the night. His father and the others even the ones he had thought he had scared away kept coming. It didn't matter if he talked to them or not, they kept on coming telling him that if he needed them they would be there for him.

He didn't know how to do it though, or even if he wanted to do it. Everything felt so crappy, He hadn't been put on anti-depresants yet, just anti-nausea ones that would make it harder for him to throw up. As soon as he could keep food down he would get to add anit-depression and anti-anxiety pills he had to take. Then again no one knew how effective they would be with his wolf metabolism. Which was why at the moment Scott was with him and his Dad was talking to Deaton, the only one who could even hazard a guess at what dosage a teenage werewolf boy had to take medication at.

Scott was trying to get him to eat food. He hadn't been doing a lot of eating since he had seen the doctor. Due to the anti-nausea pills he was taking, the food no longer came up but still made him feel terrible. Scott was waving his pizza at him again, like that might make it look more appetizing then it really was. Scott's smile that had been obviously fake the entire time he had been there suddenly fell off.

"Stiles, you have to eat."

"Werewolf metabolism has carried me so far," Stiles muttered under his breath but he knew that Scott had heard him because of his wince. There was the guilt filling him again, but he still wouldn't eat. It tasted awful, everything did.

"Stiles," Scott said wearily. The teen wolf was tired, Scott had been there since school had gotten over and been trying to get Stiles to eat for an hour, unsuccessfully. Another stab of guilt. Why couldn't he just do what Scott want him to do?  It wasn't like Scott had never done the same thing for him. Scott hadn't really wanted to go looking for half a dead body in the middle of the night but he had for Stiles. Couldn't Stiles open up and take a small bite for Scott? Stiles shook his head as he realized at the moment that he couldn't. However, he could give Scott one small bone.

"I'm sorry." he apologized. That sorry encompassed a lot of things. He was sorry for not even being able to take a bite. Also for being so screwed up that rather then Scott just having to worry about sports and school he also had to worry about Stiles.

"Stiles-"

"Scott just leave it," Stiles said irritated again and then started making his way up from his chair, intent on running away up to his room. Unfortunately, his legs didn't obey him. Instead, they crumpled from under him sending him to the floor where he barely caught himself on his hands before he fell. He was so weak, so tired. He was tired of feeling like this. 

Stiles looked at the pizza and winced. He knew what he had to do in order for him to not feel so tired and weak. Scott held out his hand and Stiles reluctantly took it and let Scott pull him to his feet. He stared at the pizza. The smell that used to make him salivate didn't anymore, however it also wasn't churning the way that it used to. He managed to sit himself back into his chair before he fell again.

He was going to have to eat, what he had avoided doing ever since he had gotten on those damn pills. Picking a slice of pizza up out of the box Stiles stared at it for a long moment with an expression that only could be described as disgust. For Stiles, the pizza might as well be a worm for how much he wanted to eat it. However, he bit into the pizza and started chewing. It still tasted like ash, that much was still the same but it wasn't turning his stomach the way it used to. Then again, sometimes it took some time to get started. 

When he looked up Scott smiled encouragingly at him and nodded back at the pizza, Stiles knew that Scott wanted him to take another bite. Stiles took a long deep breath before taking another small bite from the pizza before putting it back down. The two bites were all that he could handle at the moment. He looked at a spot on the table that wasn't near the pizza and was away from Scott since he didn't want to see the look of disappointment on his face. He always seemed to be letting his best friend down.

"Hey Biles." Scott said. Stiles looked up, despite himself, he smiled momentarily as he remembered that. He had been so proud to be put on first string that he had told Scott to call him Biles. It hadn't really stuck much longer then that moment. His smile faded off his face slowly. That had been him, the guy he was before. Not this guy, whoever he was.

"Stiles we're going to get through this," Scott said earnestly. "You have me, your Dad, Lydia, Allison and all the wolves behind you ,even Jackson. Believe me, there is nothing that anyone of us wouldn't do for you." Stiles nodded but he wasn't sure if he believed him.

Review please :)

 


	39. Chapter 39

Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf.

He wasn't nauseous. It was hours after he had eaten and he wasn't nauseous, he supposed that meant that the pills were doing their job. He had only eaten two bites of pizza but he felt the same he had after he had eaten Thanksgiving Dinner (before). Which actually had been a few days ago, not that they had celebrated much with him running into the forest and spending most of the night there. He wasn't really sure if the others had celebrated but if he had to guess he would guess no, great another thing he had ruined.

He wasn't really a fan of the reminder that Christmas was coming either. The house was decorated sparsely, then again his Dad had to work a lot around the holidays, because while most people got more jolly some people got too carried away by the Christmas spirit, or violent, or both. He had never really felt like decorating because his mom had loved Christmas, and he felt too sad about missing her to make a big deal about it. However there were some decorations that someone had put up, maybe to liven up the house which certainly didn't have much jolly in it at the moment.

He was glad he didn't have to see his shrink that day, although he was going to have to tomorrow. There was nothing really wrong about his shrink, she seemed like a friendly and nice enough person but she always asked him questions that he didn't want to answer. Telling him that talking about what happened might help him and some other psychobabble. Talking about it wasn't going to help anyone and would only bring up what he desperately wanted to hide under layers and layers of his mind. He was also supposed to keep a food diary to make sure that he ate, at least his shrink hardly ever used the words Anorexia and Bulimia. However, she had told him that he had Anorexia although it had a lot to do with his PSTD more than anything else. Which wasn't really all that helpful, but apparently he had to be diagnosed for some reason or other.

He shook his head, he didn't want to think about any of that, not until he had to again. He was sitting at his desk and he picked up his pencil again and got started on his math homework again.

~.~

He heard some arguing in the background and remembered that Lydia and Jackson were there. He remembered vaguely Scott telling him that he had to go home for some reason, and that Lydia and Jackson were going to be there for a little while. Lydia had started to get a conversation started between the three of them but Stiles had never liked Jackson even before everything had started so he hadn't much felt really talking around him. Although he supposed that the him before would have been hanging all over Lydia. Right now he was gritting his teeth because while he was sure that a human couldn't hear them since they were downstairs and he was up in his room, with his werewolf ears he certainly could.

He jerked himself off the bed and went down the stairs- just in time to see Jackson walking out the door. His body froze as he saw Lydia's face for a moment, she had no idea she wasn't alone because now that Stiles was a werewolf he could move much quieter than he had as a human. Lydia had unshed tears in her eyes but she also looked mad. Stiles was just frozen. He could sneak back up the stairs and Lydia would never know he had seen her face like this. Stiles had made up his mind to do just that when Lydia turned around and saw him. Her face instantly blanked and she blinked a lot as she put a smile on her face that Stiles knew was 100% fake.

"Stiles." she said "Are you okay? Do you need anything?" Stiles stared at her for a long moment not knowing what to say or how to handle this. Part of him still wanted to leave and pretend like he hadn't heard anything, but he stayed and stared at Lydia awkwardly for a long moment. After a few moments, Lydia broke eye contact.

"So you heard?" she spoke with a sad smile. Stiles couldn't bring himself to say anything so he just nodded and Lydia nodded back at him.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to bring our drama here," Lydia said gesturing around the living room. Stiles just stared at her not knowing what to say. He should be trying to comfort her, that was what the old him would have done but, Stiles's was just standing there staring at her he might as well have been a statue.

"Stiles it's okay you don't have to say anything," she reassured him, apparently seeing what was on his mind in his face. He should do something, anything. It's what he would have done but all he was able to do was stare at Lydia in a way that he could tell was starting to make her uncomfortable.

"Lydia," his mouth spoke without him meaning to. Lydia gave him another fake smile.

"Yes Stiles?"

"I...I..." he should try to comfort her, do something anything other than just stand there!

"Yes," Lydia asked.

"I'm hungry," he said. It was a lie he wasn't hungry, but he knew that it would have the desired effect Lydia smiled.

"Well the good news for you is that I know how to cook too," she said grabbing Stiles's hand and she led the way to his own kitchen. She sat him down on a chair at his table and started to grab items off the shelves. Either she had cooked here before or she was just really good at finding her way around unfamiliar kitchens. She spent the next half hour constantly talking, though Stiles was pretty sure that if asked any question about what she had said in the half hour he would have gotten it wrong.

However, after a half an hour something was put in front of him. It was some sort of pasta noodle thingy, possibly Alfredo. He used to like Alfredo but that was before. He didn't want to eat but he had lied- lied to make Lydia feel better. That was more like the old him and less like the new him. He worked hard to keep the grimace off his face. Small bits of food had been all he had been able to handle each day of the past week. It wasn't enough, he knew because he was still quite weak, but he hadn't been able to force himself to eat much more than a few bites of anything in one sitting. Still, it was more nourishment than he used to have.

Stiles picked up the silver fork that Lydia had placed on the table next to the noodle thing and focused on the bowl. He could do it, he could eat. If he ate more then he could do more. With that in mind, he put the fork into the noodles and twirled them around his fork to give himself more time before he actually had to eat it. Eventually, he knew that he had to eat at least a few bites. It was the rules, someone cooked something he had to at least eat a few bites or he had to spend 3 hours with someone staring at him, most of the time it was easier to eat the few bites.

Usually, someone had to pull him down to the kitchen to have this fight three times a day, but this time he had volunteered to come, to cheer Lydia up a little. So he was going to have to do this. Stiles put the noodles in his mouth and bit into the pasta, separating it from the fork it had been on. He chewed the pasta slowly and then got himself another fork full, knowing that one forkful wasn't enough for them. It was usually at two that he stopped: two bites, two forkfuls. It was usually as much as he could stand but Lydia's face in the hall came to him again. He hated food, he hated eating but at the same time there a was a small part of him, maybe the small part of him that was still in love with Lydia that wanted to make her happy, so he twirled food around his fork again and bit into it.

It was something small, just a single bite but it made Lydia smile and it made Stiles feel a tiny bit lighter.

Review please :)


	40. Chapter 40

"Hey Stiles." Stiles looked up from the book he was reading to see Scott come into the room. He acknowledged Scott's presence with a nod, that was a step from his usual greeting which was generally a brief glance. Stiles looked at the clock and saw that it was dinner time. They tried to keep it at the same time every day to get his stomach used to eating again. Stiles put down his book and looked at Scott who was staring at him. Scott's eyes were saying 'please don't make me drag you today'. He wasn't a fan of food, but he had started eating a little more the than he had the last week. The food was starting to taste less like ash and a little more like burned food, still unbelievably disgusting but slightly less so than it used to be.

Stiles sighed but nodded, he got up out of his chair and followed Scott out of his room and down the stairs until they were in the kitchen. They always gave him items high in fat, since there was very little that Stiles actually ate.  They wanted to make sure to get the most calories into him. For Stiles, it wasn't about calories, just food.  It didn't matter if it was a spoonful of lard or a celery stick, they both tasted equally as awful to him.

Today was hamburger that his Dad had obviously cooked himself. Stiles could still smell the raw hamburger in the air even though it was cooked now. Scott handed Stiles a burger on a plate complete with a bun. Stiles took the hamburger off the plate and looked at Scott and his father before eating it. He took shallow bites and managed to get about half way through the burger before he couldn't take anymore. He hadn't thrown up. Not in three weeks which he guessed was progress. He was getting slightly stronger every day as he ate more and more. His Dad and Scott watched him even as they pretended that they weren't, but it didn't bother him as much as it used to he knew that they were just worried about him.

He had kept food down for long enough that he was now on anti-anxiety and anti-depressants medications. The medications were going to take a few weeks to kick in, even though he was a larger dose than he was supposed to be. Due to the fact that he was a werewolf, he metabolized quicker and more efficiently than a normal human teenage boy would.

As soon as he was done eating, he usually headed back up to his room where someone would follow and stare at him for awhile. Or sometimes, more now than in the beginning, if it was werewolf they backed off.  They could use their super hearing to tell if he was in trouble. Scott followed Stiles out of the room as he made came back to his room and sat down at the desk he had just vacated for dinner. Stiles picked up his book again but after a moment put it down and looked at Scott. Who looked at him back.

"Scott."

"Yeah Stiles," Scott said eagerly. Part of him wanted to say something to Scott, something comforting, something real, something... but he couldn't so all he said was.

"Do you know what my Dad is cooking tomorrow?" Scott looked disappointed for a brief moment before making his face go blank. He shook his head.

"No but I can ask him," he said and Stiles shook his head because he didn't really care.

"No, it's okay. I was just a little curious," he said Scott nodded his understanding.

 


	41. Chapter 41

 

Stiles was working on his homework or at least trying to when he heard and smelled nearly at the same time that Scott had stepped into his house. Stiles heard Scott's footsteps approaching the stairs, then the hall, Stiles turned as Scott turned the knob of his door and entered his room. Scott dropped his backpack on his floor like he used to do all the time and like Stiles used to do in his house as well. The two of them had always treated the other's house like it was their own. They had never asked permission to eat their food or anything like that, in fact, Stiles had made a key to the McCall's house. Scott looked at him and from his expression, Stiles knew that Scott was going to talk about something serious.

"We need to talk about tomorrow." Stiles nodded, he knew that this conversation was coming.

"It's your first full moon," Scott said like Stiles didn't already know, and if he didn't feel the irritation and anger creeping in.

"I know," he snapped irritably. Aggression had him all sorts of keyed up.  Honestly, it was kind of nice because it kind of overpowered the emptiness and hopelessness, even though he knew it was the wolf in him and it was just temporary.

"So we should talk about what-"

"You, Derek and Issac are going to tie me up and make sure I don't hurt anyone. I know! We've already been over this like a million times!" Stiles snapped. Scott looked startled for a moment probably because Scott was unused to him saying so much without being forced to but then plugged on anyway.

"Okay then, do you have any questions?" Scott asked.

"I was there on your first full moon. Got a front row seat, I think I'm good." Stiles snapped irritably.

"Stiles seeing isn't the same as doing," Scott said.  Stiles made himself take a few deep breaths before responding as he reminded himself that Scott was just trying to help him. Stiles reminded himself that he should be glad that he got to benefit from the fact his friend had already gone through this, rather than just going through it blindly. However, he was having a little bit of a difficult time dealing with the aggression and wolf instincts and knew they were going to be even stronger tomorrow.

"How do you deal with this?" Stiles asked more out of frustration than anything else.

"I found an anchor," Scott said and Stiles nodded. An anchor, all wolves needed an anchor, trouble was he had no idea what his anchor was going to be. Not when it was like he was floating on a raft in the middle of the ocean with nothing in sight. Stiles had no idea how in the world he was going to find an anchor.

* * *

If he had been keyed up and irritated yesterday, it was nothing compared to right now. The sun was going down and the moon would be up soon. Scott was driving him to the railway station where Derek, Issac, and Scott would make sure that he didn't hurt anyone on his first full moon without an anchor. He was fighting with the part of him that wanted to attack Scott just for the sake of attacking him, which was difficult because there was also a part of Stiles that wanted to give in. Stiles didn't want to hurt Scott, but a part of him also did want to hurt him. Somehow he managed to keep the part of himself that wanted violence from acting upon it.

Stiles got out of the jeep as soon as it stopped and pretty much ran all the way down to the abandoned railway station. When he reached the entrance he found Derek and Issac. Stiles jerked around as he heard Scott's footsteps coming down the stairs behind him and his eyes narrowed when he looked at the bag in Scott's hand that he hadn't noticed before. Paranoia flashed through him and he backed up a little bit.

"What's in the bag?" Stiles asked warily trying to keep distance between him and the bag only for Scott to get even closer to him. Scott stopped after a few more moments of this, then turned around put the bag on the ground behind him using his body to shield what was in the bag. He did not like at all. However a moment later Scott turned around and dropped something on the ground and Stiles's eyes focused on it. It was a dog bowl, a dog bowl with Stiles names on the side. Stiles looked between the dog bowl and Scott a few times before asking annoyed.

"Seriously?"

"Hey, I'm just returning the favor," Scott said with a smile.

"Gonna tie me to a radiator too?" Stiles asked annoyed and annoyingly Scott just grinned. He really wanted to beat his face in but Stiles managed to hold himself back...barely. Stiles looked at Derek and Issac who both looked slightly confused, but then again they hadn't been there.

Stiles looked at Derek's feet and saw the chains. Chains weren't something he was particularly looking forward to, but even though he was bitter and depressed Stiles didn't want to hurt anyone. Derek looked down at the chains and back at him silently asking if he was ready to put them on. Stiles took in a deep breath, he wasn't a fan of being constrained as he was slightly claustrophobia.

Despite his reservations though he walked the distance between the two of them easier than usual. In an effort to make sure that he didn't eat rabbits again, he had eaten far more than he had wanted to. The process had made him feel simultaneously more stronger and uncomfortable. The downside being it would also make him a bit stronger and a bit more likely to be able to break himself out of his chains. But surely an alpha and two betas could keep him here and from hurting anyone.

Derek slapped cuffs on his arms and connected them to some of the metal support beams that were still intact. The moment he was secured and constricted, he felt his control fading.  He tried to attack Derek only to find him frustratingly out of his reach. He snarled and felt his fangs popping out again and felt himself sort of fading into the background of his own mind.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think :)


	42. Chapter 42

Scott could see the moment the wolf took full control. Stiles had been irritated and aggressive for the last 2 days which was a change because it also meant he a little more...like himself. Yes, Stiles had been sarcastic and maybe a little more mean than usual. Compared to silence and minimal talking it was a bit of welcome change, even if it was only because of the full moon and the wolf inside of Stiles. Stiles jerked harshly on the chain and Scott backed away slightly. It didn't look like the chains were going to hold for very long. Which meant that eventually, it going to require something a bit more personal to keep Stiles there.

It wasn't long before Stiles fulfilled Scott's prediction and broke the chains. Scott's eyes met Stiles's yellow eyes and knew that Stiles was going to fight them hard to get out of there or maybe just to fight. Stiles came at him and Scott mostly evaded his kicks and punches trying not to injure Stiles or allow himself to be injured. However, Stiles just kept trying so Derek and Issac stepped in after a few moments trying to wrestle Stiles to the ground only for it not to work. Scott looked at Derek who was focused on trying to get Stiles to the ground.

"Growl at him like you did to Isaac." Scott insisted. Derek looked at him briefly before focusing again on Stiles.

"It doesn't always work," he said blocking Stiles's claw that had been aimed at his shoulder.

"Well, you should try or else we going to be at this all night," Scott said blocking a jab from Stiles's intended to pierce Derek's stomach. Derek nodded and growled...only for it to have no effect on Stiles. He still kept trying to attack them and Scott was worried about hurting Stiles.

"What about-"

"There's nothing we can do about that now. We have to keep him in here or he going to use his anger and aggression on someone who can't fight back." Scott wondered if on his first full moon he looked like Stiles did with his eyes yellow and looking at him like he wanted to murder him, then again Stiles looked at all of them like that. The sideburns and long hair might have looked goofy if it wasn't for the murderous look in his eyes.

A werewolf had to find an anchor to stay in control. But Stiles was so messed up Scott doubted that his friend was going to be finding an anchor any time soon.

* * *

Stiles woke up to find himself covered by a blanket. As he moved to get up the blanket slid off of him he realized that his clothes weren't exactly intact. He froze and huddled into the blanket a little more as he looked around the railway station. He only saw Scott who was 5 feet away from him and looking down at something.

"Where are Derek and Issac?" Stiles surprised himself by asking. But he had been expecting to wake to see all three of them staring at him instead of only Scott. Scott looked up and Stiles's eyes widened as he caught a glimpse of Scott's skin. It was all red like it was healing from some pretty serious wounds.

"They went to sleep, they left me here just in-" just in case he was still like he had been last night.

"I did that didn't I?" Stiles asked it was kind of fuzzy, but he was pretty sure that it was his claws that had done that.

"I nearly killed you in a locker room once, it's okay." Scott shrugged like that was the same thing and that it was no big deal. Stiles frowned as he looked at the wounds. They were almost healed barely pink lines on Scott's skin. Considering how fast werewolves healed and how long it had been since it had happened, it would have to have been fairly deep.

"Scott."

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry."

"You're a new werewolf," he said like that made everything better Stiles shook his head.

"No, not just for that," he said only just realizing in that second exactly what it was that he was sorry for.

"I'm sorry that...I'm like this," Stiles said after a long pause.

"Stiles, it's okay I understand-"

"Please don't say that," Stiles said he hated that phrase ever since he was a kid and people had said that to him after his mom had died.

"Okay," Scott agreed, "I could see why things might be difficult for you now." he said rephrasing it slightly.

"But I never used to be this," Stiles said with a bitter smile.

"No, but I never used to be a werewolf; things change, people change."

"I just don't remember how to be him," Stiles said. "The person I was before," he said shaking his head. "I mean I want to be him again, I do I just...I don't know how. Tell me how," Stiles insisted even though he wasn't sure how Scott was supposed to know when he didn't know himself.

"Stiles, I don't know. Maybe you should talk about it." Stiles shrunk back from him. That's what his shrink had said as well. They didn't understand how dark it was. How much he had hated it there. How much that place had destroyed him. Stiles shook his head.

"I can't. That place...it destroyed me," he said and shook his head again. Why did everyone want him to talk about it? To relive the memories of what had caused him to break into a million pieces?

"If we don't know what happened to you, then how are we supposed to help you?" Stiles thought it was pretty obvious what happened to him due to the scars on his body; the ones that he hadn't healed yet. The ones he still hated. He was still going to change them just as soon as soon as he could, the moment people weren't hovering over him all the time. Stiles shook his head and got onto his feet holding the blanket around him. "I can't, I can't, "he said and backed away from Scott and into the darkness of the tunnel. It seemed where he belonged, in the darkness.

 

 


	43. Chapter 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf.

Food time again. The torture of the day, pizza. He missed enjoying food and he wondered if his love of food was ever going to come back? He wondered if the person he used to be was ever going to come back? He glared down at the slice of pepperoni even as he picked it up and bit into it. They had no idea how gross food tasted. If they did know surely they wouldn't be trying to make him eat? Right? Stiles was pretty sure he was wrong about that, but he didn't care. He bit into the slice of pizza and chewed it, wondering if it was ever going to change back to the way he remembered it. Instead of the way it tasted now, like it was burnt even though he knew it wasn't really burnt.

Isaac was with him because Scott had to work and...honestly he couldn't remember anything else. His Dad was at work as well. Stiles had not said one word to Isaac since he had come over and Isaac hadn't said much to him either. Stiles's eyes roved over Isaac's from looking for scars, since he hadn't seen Isaac since when he had been held in the railway station during the full moon two days ago. He wasn't sure why he was looking for them.  Isaac was a werewolf as well, the marks would have already faded from his body. Stiles looked again back at his pizza. He had to take another bite. He was not looking forward to next week. His Dad had told him that he would have to eat 3 bites every meal when two bites still made him feel overly full and the food tasted gross. Stiles took a deep breath and bit into the slice and chewed it again. At least now he wouldn't have to eat again till tomorrow.

"So," Issac said speaking for the first time since he had told him that he brought dinner. Stiles didn't feel like responding especially so something as ambiguous as 'so'. "How are you?" Isaac asked like Stiles didn't get that question about a thousand times a day. Stiles rolled his eyes and looking away from both the pizza in front of him and Isaac.

"That good?" Isaac asked. Stiles didn't want to talk about it. He knew his shrink and Scott both seemed to think it was a good idea. They didn't seem to understand that if Stiles were to talk about it he'd crumble into a million pieces and never be able to put the pieces back together again.

"Look Stiles." Isaac started then trailed off obviously trying to talk but losing his nerve. "Are you going to eat any more pizza?" Isaac asked instead and Stiles shook his head even though it was obvious that he wasn't. Isaac picked another slice out of the pizza box, that made it his seventh slice. Werewolves ate a lot. Or at least they were supposed to make up for the supernatural burst of strength and speed. All his being a werewolf did for him was still make him able to move around, even though the amount he ate wasn't enough to really sustain him. Except on the full moon. His wolf self apparently was much stronger than he was. He had liked the feeling he had gotten near the full moon. He had been so much more like his old self, stronger and less devastated. It was a shame he wouldn't feel that way again until the next full moon came rolling around.

Stiles got up from the table and made his way upstairs. Isaac's footsteps followed him as he made the trip. When he got back to his room, he sat back down on his desk, in front of his half completed math assignment. For awhile, the only sounds that could be heard was the sound of Stiles's pencil going across the paper. Along with occasional creaking of Isaac's chair which was wood, compared to Stiles's chair which was a rolly one.

Stiles had just convinced himself that Isaac wasn't going to talk, when he heard Isaac clear his throat a little nervously. Stiles's eyes went to Isaac's and before he could look away Isaac said.

"I know it's not the same thing. But of anyone else, you know that I understand much more than they do." Isaac said for the first time bringing up his own past since he had tried to break Stiles of trying to push everyone else away. "I don't pretend that I have the healthiest way of dealing with it, but if you want to talk..." Isaac trailed off awkwardly and Stiles wasn't sure what to say. Talking to anyone seemed like a bad idea, but if he were to talk to someone... he would want it to be with someone who at least partially understood. "That's all I wanted to say," Isaac said and looked away. Stiles looked away as well not sure how to take the offer, he also didn't really want to think about the offer so he started doing his homework again.

Isaac left a few hours later when his Dad got there. Scott normally slept over every night. Scott was worried about him throwing up, even though he hadn't done it in weeks. They also worried about Stiles hurting himself. That one was much more of a realistic concern since Stiles still felt the urge every day. Stiles battled between his wanting to do it and the guilt he would feel if his Dad or Scott knew he was doing it.

Scott slept in the guest room normally. In the past, when Scott had spent the night he would either sleep in a sleeping bag on his floor, or in the same bed; both of those made him feel uncomfortable now. Not that Stiles was sleeping at the moment. He had spent hours doing homework, working into the early hours of the morning. Which was something he did a lot. So much so that he was ahead in every class despite missing school for awhile.

Stiles made his way out of his chair to stretch a little and walked out of his room. He walked down the hall only to stop at Scott's room. Scott's door was open just as his was, so that Scott could hear clearly what was going on in the house. Scott's face was pressed into his pillow at the moment and slow soft snores was emanating from the young werewolves mouth. Scott looked so peaceful at the moment and all Stiles felt was jealously. His sleep was still plagued with nightmares; which was why he still avoided it. Stiles grit his teeth but moved on from the room to the end of the hallway.

He made his way into the bathroom even though he didn't have to go; he turned on the light and came face to face with the mirror that was over the sink. Looking at himself in the mirror was never a good thing. The mirror showed him how skinny he was, how his clothes still hung off of him and how prominent his bones were. Stiles looked like a skeleton that had skin wrapped around it.

Stiles closed and locked the door and after a moment's hesitation took his shirt off. Stiles ignored the fact that he could see his ribs and count them all. Instead, Stiles focused on the scars across his body. Stiles knew that he shouldn't be doing this and that doing this was unlikely to lead to anywhere good, but he didn't stop. So many scars, still so many reminders of the past. Stiles felt tears coming to his eyes again but tried but failed to stop them. The scars would always remind him of what had happened. The words, the hurt, and pain. There was only one way to get rid of them all. Stiles slipped into his werewolf side and stared at himself in the mirror. Yellow eyes fangs bared and sideburns combined with his scarred skinny frame. He looked like something out of the freakiest horror movie that he had ever seen.

He had to do something, something to make himself look like less of a freak. Anything. The scars. The scars, if he could make the scars go away then everything would be better. He wouldn't have the constant reminder on his skin of everything that had happened. He would be able to forget, to move on. If only he could get rid of the scars. Stiles looked at his hand and at his claws. Yes, if he erased all the scars then everything would be better. Stiles drug his claws through the scars relishing in the pain, even if it was much briefer then it had been before he had become a werewolf. He had clawed his way through about five scars when he heard.

"Stiles stop," Stiles blinked as he realized Scott was in front of him and looking at him scared, yet at the same time disappointed. Stiles blinked again as he realized that Scott must have been watching him again digging through his skin.

"This isn't about...I just I have to..." he tried to explain. Until the marks were gone he was never going to be able to look at himself in the mirror without remembering. _You really think even if all the marks are gone you'll be able to forget?_  A dark voice said in his head. "It's not," he continued trying to explain, but he hadn't actually given an explanation yet. "I have to get rid of them," Stiles admitted finally. Scott's nodded although his eyes were full of tears. "I'm sorry," Stiles said and averted his eyes feeling shame fill him at seeing such sadness in his friend's eyes and knowing he had put it there. Scott nodded and Scott didn't respond vocally at first he just wrapped his arms around him.

"I just wish you would stop doing this yourself," Scott whispered in his ear making him feel even more guilty.

 

 


	44. Chapter 44

What was the point of school? Honestly, he wasn't sure.  He didn't listen to his teachers, just blocked all the noise and thoughts out by reading from the textbook or working ahead on his homework. Still, it was him and he didn't get into any trouble for it. In fact, he wasn't even sure if teachers actually checked his work or just put A's on it just because it was him.

 The bell rung overhead and Stiles cursed as it realized it was lunch time. Lunchtime used to be his favorite time of the day. The time of day he could hang out with Scott and talk about nothing and eat as much as he could. Now it was just an awkward thing where Issac, Lydia, Jackson, Allison, and Scott pretended not to stare at him until it was time to go back to class. Especially lately after Scott had caught him in the bathroom, he just looked at lately like his heart was breaking.

It wasn't happening,  not today, As soon as he made his way into the hall he turned the opposite direction from the lunch room and started to head out.

"Stiles!" 'busted' Stiles thought and turned around to see Alison standing there. There was only one way to avoid everyone, even if he wasn't fond of it.

"I'm going out to go get something, you wanna come?" he asked nonchalantly like he hadn't been caught trying to escape. Allison studied him for a moment then nodded. Stiles led the way to his car and since he still technically wasn't supposed to drive he gave Alison the keys to his jeep that he had secretly made a copy of. He made his way around to the passenger's side and saw Alison get in. She turned to look at him and asked.

"Where do you want to go?" she asked.  If he had managed to escape he was pretty sure that probably wouldn't have gone anywhere with food. 

"Doesn't matter," Stiles said not feeling like trying to pretend much more at the moment than he already was. Allison nodded and pulled the vehicle out from the parking spot. Stiles wasn't sure where she was going, but she seemed to have a destination in mind that she didn't share, but Stiles didn't ask. He had never spent much alone time with Allison. Mostly the only way he knew her was due to their mutual relationships with Scott.

Stiles found his eyes looking outside at all the Christmas decorations. There were snowmen, the inflatable kind since due to their warm climate they weren't likely to have much actual snow. In fact, all Stiles was wearing was a light jacket and it did its job nicely to keep out the cold. There were Santa Clauses and the Christmas lights that were on many houses but weren't on at the moment since it was in the middle of the day. 

Christmas. It was two weeks away. In fact, they were almost on Christmas break now, it was just a few days away. It wasn't like it had ever been his favorite time of the year ever since his mom died, but he had never dreaded it before like he was this year. Christmas was supposed to be a time of love and sharing with family and friends. He had a feeling that his family and friends were going to be doing lots of holiday stuff this year in an attempt to make him happy. He was glad that Alison hadn't turned on the car radio or the jeep would probably be full of Christmas music.

His phone was ringing. If he had managed to shake everyone he probably wouldn't have answered it, but there was no point in not answering it now.

"Hello," he said and heard Scott's worried voice on the phone.

"Stiles? Where are you?"

"Me and Allison are going to get something to eat," He said like that was something normal when the two didn't normally hang out without at least Lydia or Scott. 

"You...what?" Scott asked sounding confused.

"Me and Allison are going somewhere to eat. She's driving at the moment, but if you want me to have her call you when we get there I can," He said still pretending like this wasn't weird at all. There was a long pause and then Scott slowly said.

"Uh...no, that's okay, just get back before class, you don't want to be late," he said and Stiles replied.

"Okay," even though he didn't really care about being on time. No one marked him late, not anymore. He could probably show up five till the bell completely naked and still probably not get in trouble.  He hung up just as Alison pulled into a Little Caesar's parking lot. Pizza. Huh. 

"I'll be right back," she said and left him in the car. He felt strangely grateful for his alone time. Alone time wasn't a luxury that he had much of anymore.  Even though he knew Alison would be back in the car soon and with food he still appreciated any alone time that he could get. Allison though was back in what seemed like no time and with a Little Caesar's pizza in her hand.

 She put the pizza between them before climbing in. Stiles opened the pizza box not wanting to make Allison make him eat. Pepperoni. Stiles picked one of the smaller slices from the box and ate a few bites. His eyes found a roof that had a blown up reindeer on it as he chewed. His eyes went onto the next house that had the fake frosted type glass on the windows and lights on the roof. The house next to that, was undecorated. But the house next to that had so many lights he knew the guy's electric bill must be through the roof.

Stiles returned his gaze back down at his hand and found that the entire slice of pizza was gone. He looked around the car in case he dropped it, because the last thing you wanted even in winter was for food to be left for a long time in the car. He couldn't find it.  His gaze turned to Alison who was grinning, but she was the only one who knew the answer to the question he wanted to ask.

"Did I eat the whole thing?" he asked her and she nodded. Wow, he hadn't even noticed it. It hadn't exactly been tasty, but since his mind hadn't been on it, he had somehow managed. Maybe he was improving.

 

 


	45. Chapter 45

School was out now for winter break and while he knew others were excited about it, he wasn't so excited. It just meant more people constantly looking at him and more shrink appointments which were actually punishments because he still refused to tell anyone about his experience, even his shrink. Even though his shrink had some thoughts about that he mostly tried to ignore them.

He heard a knock on his door and while he didn't really want company, they would probably come in anyways so he yelled.

"Come in," Isaac came in and Stiles wasn't sure what to think. They hadn't talked since Isaac had offered to talk with him if he wanted to.

"Hey Isaac," he said awkwardly before picking his book up again and pretending to go back to reading it.

"Hi," Isaac said sounding only slightly less awkward as he sat by him. Stiles tried to get back into his book, but it was difficult when he felt Issac's eyes on him. Stiles looked up and saw for a moment that Isaac was, in fact, staring at him like he was trying to bore his way into his head with his gaze.

"Look I have an offer for you but you can't tell anyone," Isaac said slowly, sounding anxious. Stiles put his book down intrigued by the offer.

"I'm listening."

"You need to eat," Stiles averted his eyes angrily. It wasn't like he didn't know that he needed to eat, it wasn't like he didn't try he did, but the food tasted awful. Except he supposed that it had been getting a little better lately, he could eat a little more if he could distract his mind while eating.

"What's your point?" Stiles asked decided to skip past everything else. Isaac sighed sounding like he had wanted a little longer to work up to it.

"Look maybe it not the healthiest way, but aggression is helpful to me with these kinds of things, as well as knowing how to take care of yourself so if you're placed in a similar position you know you can defend yourself," Stiles frowned, it sounded good so far but he still had no idea what exactly it was that Isaac was proposing.

"But first you need to eat more," Isaac said earnestly. Stiles growled in frustration since the blonde had no idea what was going on.

"What exactly are you offering if I eat more?" Stiles asked because that sounded like what Isaac was doing.

"I offer you me and Derek to teach you how to fight," Isaac said plainly. Stiles nodded he could understand why Isaac didn't want him to tell Scott. Scott would probably go ballistic since he was trying to avoid Stiles hurting himself and being hurt by others even if he was a werewolf. Even if the others would take it easier on him, it wasn't something Scott would like. Still, he could see the appeal and it would help him feel much stronger and maybe that would make feel less fragile if he could defend himself. It almost seemed like too much to hope for

"But, you won't last very long if you don't eat and me and Derek both agreed you have to gain ten pounds before we will fight you. You look like a single blow will break you apart." Isaac said honestly, more honestly than the others were when it came to this stuff. They would say stuff about how bad it was not to eat and how much it hurt them to watch him starve himself, but no one had ever spoken so bluntly about it like Isaac had.

"So it's your choice. Gain the weight and learn to fight or stay looking like a damn skeleton and waste away, also no more slicing yourself." Isaac added with the same bluntness. Stiles appreciated the bluntness, especially when it always seemed that everyone was always walking on eggshells around him, always trying to find the right thing to say. He didn't have to think very long or hard about it, even though intention wasn't necessarily the same thing as reality, he still knew which one he liked better. He had made the same decision before, albeit he had thrown up regardless in the night and in the day which he wasn't going to be able to do now. Still, he wasn't what he considered a normal anorexic. He wasn't afraid of gaining weight, he just hated eating.

"You swear if I gain ten pounds and stop hurting myself then you'll teach me to fight," Stiles asked. It was going to be hell eating that much food, he wanted to make sure that he had a reason for doing so.

"I swear."


	46. Chapter 46

Stiles found out that milkshakes were the fattiest and least objectionable food to his body. He had found this out after trying all kinds of fast food. Scott was watching him in awe as he watched Stiles finish a milkshake when normally after three bites of a pizza or really anything made him feel full and grossed out. It was only a small milkshake and he felt uncomfortably full, but it was a start. He had to gain ten pounds before Derek or Isaac would teach him to fight.

Isaac had told him only five days ago but every single meal he had he tried to push as much into himself as he could. His stomach couldn't handle much in one sitting still, but he supposed it was a start even if he hadn't gained anything yet. He did, however, feel the slightest bit more energized. Scott smiled at him and again Stiles felt a little guilty because he was hiding the reason that he was eating much more readily and without having to be prodded or guilted into it. He agreed with Isaac, Scott would not understand or probably approve with their arrangement.

Also, the extra nourishment made him feel a little less brittle and Stiles playfully stole a fry from Scott's plate and chewed it. It still didn't taste great, but it was starting to taste somewhere between cardboard and burned food which was good. Maybe it did mean that eventually his hunger and desire for food would eventually come back. Scott grinned at his antics and Stiles found himself smiling back and for a moment it was like it had been back before. Stiles' smile faded for a moment as he thought about it, then forced himself to smile again since Scott seemed to be having a good time and Scott deserved to have fun even if it was just for a few moments.

Stiles found his eyes going out the window and looking at the different varieties of lights and decorations. Christmas was only in two days and everything looked dressed and ready for the occasion. Stiles had bought some gifts for Scott, and his Dad, and Scott's mom. He had bought some smaller gifts for his friends. Honestly, he had spent several hours thinking about what to get them but in the end had just picked items at random. He was usually much more thoughtful, but he didn't feel like he had the energy this year.

Christmas had never been a great time of year, ever since he mother had died. This year, though, it was difficult to pinpoint his feelings. They were still bleak but didn't feel like it was because of Christmas this year and he had a goal, a slight flutter of hope, in Isaac's and Derek's promise. For the first time in years, Stiles was sure that he was actually happier around Christmas than the rest of the year, even if it didn't have much to do directly with Christmas.

"Have you wrapped all your presents?" Stiles found himself asking, the question just sliding out like it was normal. Scott blinked, usually, Stiles didn't speak unless he had been asked a question either verbally or physically, or to complain or apologize.

"Uh not yet," Scott stammered after a moment and Stiles's smile became slightly less fake again. It was just like Scott to wait so long to wrap his presents. "I'm going to tonight. My Mom working, she's working both tomorrow and Christmas eve," Stiles nodded, his Dad was as well. Both their parents were working late shifts so that they could be home for Christmas day dinner. Scott's mom was making Christmas dinner with his Dad helping, he supposed that was the plan at least. It had been quite a while since they actually made dinner rather than just going a restaurant. However, both of their parents had taken the day off so they could have a family dinner just the four of them and with a real home cooked food. Scott had told him that his mother was excited, but a little scared about it. Scott's mom was an okay cook, but perhaps not the best one in the world or even on her street.

Two weeks ago he had been dreading the occasion, as he had been determined it would be an hour of three people staring at him eating tiny bites and looking at him with disappointment for not eating anymore. He was still dreading it, things hadn't changed that much, but at the same time, there was a small part of him that wasn't scared about it and an ever smaller part of him that actually wanted it to happen.

"Have you?" Scott asked and it took Stiles a moment to backtrack to the question Scott was referring to.

"Yes," Stiles said he had wrapped them the day he had bought them. In fact, he had looked up how to tie unique bows with ribbon just for something to do to make sure his brain was busy.

"Do you want to watch Elf tonight?" Scott asked him and Stiles nodded. They had watched a lot of holiday movies over the last few days because Stiles was always a fan of anything occupied his mind, even if it was holiday movies that he had already seen a few times before. In fact, he was sure he had seen more holiday films than he usually did during winter break. Usually, during winter break he and Scott would play video games and talk, they usually only fit in the occasional holiday movie in together. Most of the time Stiles watched the movies alone or with his father, but with Scott living with them for the time being they had a lot of time together.

Scott polished off the rest of his hamburger, fries and shake. Stiles found himself wondering how it was that Scott could eat so much, then he reminded himself that he used to be able to eat like that as well.

"Want anything else to eat?" Scott asked although obviously, he expected Stiles to say no. Part of Stiles wanted to say yes since he wanted to train, but he was pretty sure that his stomach wouldn't be able to process more than what he had already eaten so he shook his head. Scott stood up and made his way to the jeep and Stiles kept pace with him until the two them were in the jeep. Scott turned on the jeep and Bing Crosby's 'Have yourself a merry little Christmas' filled the car. Scott smiled at him and Stiles smiled back even if he wasn't exactly sure why.

* * *

Christmas Eve was a bit a strange occasion. Both of their parents weren't there, it was just Stiles and Scott watching several Christmas movies. Stiles was sure he hadn't moved in more than five hours since Scott was always the one who either put the DVD into the player or used the remote. They weren't going to have any kind of special meal that night so Scott had just warmed up some burritos for the two of them. Stiles had managed to eat one, but that was all he was able to manage.

Christmas movies were dancing around the interior of his head even as he tried to watch another Christmas movie. He found himself for a moment looking over at Scott whose eyes were focused on the TV screen. Stiles found his eyes closing as he listened to the dialog from the movie in front of him. He felt tired even though he hadn't done much that day except watching several Christmas movies, but he found himself drifting off to sleep as he listened.

* * *

Stiles jolted awake but not because of nightmares, which were odd since he always seemed to have the nightmare every time he closed his eyes. He looked around the room and found Scott asleep right where he had last seen him. Stiles smiled slightly but stopped when he heard footsteps, but they were faint as if they were trying to be stealthy but had no idea how good werewolf ears were.

Stiles pulled himself to his feet with a little more ease than he was used to. He crept around the house for a moment following the sound before he reminded himself he had was no longer bound by just seeing and hearing the way that normal people were. He sniffed deeply and found the scents of the intruders to be Scott's mom and his Dad. Which now that he thought about it made sense. They were probably creeping around because they were probably trying to avoid waking the two of them up, even though they had fallen asleep on the couch. Stiles sighed and made his way back to the very comfortable couch. He hazily remembered something about Melissa staying there tonight as he sunk back into the couch. The movie that they had been watching was gone and TV turned off. One of their parents must have done that and that might have been what had woken him up. Stiles closed his eyes. Even though he feared that he wouldn't be able to fall back asleep, he somehow managed to.


	47. Chapter 47

 

* * *

Stiles opened his eyes and blinked as his fuzzy mind tried to make sense of what was going on. After a few moments, his memory and brains snapped into place and Stiles knew it was Christmas. He had always loved Christmas as a kid. Santa coming to bring him gifts, even though he had known since the age of 7 that Santa wasn't real, he continued to pretend to believe until 11 since it meant more presents. At 11 he had given up on it because his mom had died and nothing had seemed important. His mom had loved Christmas so much it had been her favorite holiday. She would spend hours decorating the house with his help and they would make cookies on Christmas Eve to prepare the way for Santa.

Stiles frowned at the ease of which he was able to remember it. Usually memories of before felt like they happened to someone else and he was just watching them. Stiles shook his head not sure if he wanted to remember those particular memories at the moment. There was a sweet smell in the air he noticed and he determined after a few sniffs that the smell was coming from the kitchen. Scott's eyes opened slightly and Stiles wondered if Scott would go back to sleep when his arms lifted in a yawn.

"That smells good," Scott said sleepily looking at him and Stiles blinked at him, it was almost like they had a sleepover. Stiles didn't want to be thinking any thoughts so he got to his feet and made his way towards the sweet smell hearing Scott's footsteps following closely behind him. Stiles walked into the kitchen to find french toast being made. Stiles looked at his Dad making french toast with a white apron wrapped around him. Stiles couldn't remember the last time his Dad had made french toast, or even if such a thing had ever happened before.

"Dad?" Stiles asked before he could stop himself and his Dad turned around wearing a grin that seemed so real it made Stiles back up a few steps, although he wasn't completely sure why. His Dad's forehead creased slightly in concern and Stiles congratulated himself at being able to ruin Christmas so quickly. However, his father seemed to recover his grin quickly even it looked a little more forced than it had been before.

"How many do you want?" his Dad asked mostly to Scott since his Father hadn't really been around a lot during the last week. The closer to Christmas it got, the more hours police officers had to work because the most crazier people tended to get. Dad grabbed two unmatched plates from the counter and pressed them into each of their hands. Scott smiled as he handed his plate back to Stiles's Dad and said.

"4. I'm hungry," Scott added with a little defensive smile and Stiles briefly smiled as well until he realized what it was, he was doing.

"Stiles?" his Dad asked a little warily like he didn't want to get into an argument. Stiles realized that he didn't want to get into an argument either, besides he still had to gain weight.

"2," he said and watched his Dad look even more than surprised than Scott had every single day of the last week. His Dad didn't argue or ask any questions, probably too afraid to question him in case he changed his mind about it. Instead, he just put two french toast pieces on Stiles's plate. Stiles slathered his toast in butter and pancake syrup, his hands automatically making them exactly how he used to eat them.

"Thanks," Stiles said somewhat automatically and then got out of the kitchen as quickly as he could and sat down on the couch that he had just vacated moments ago. Scott sat down only moments after and started staring at Stiles's food suspiciously, but Scott didn't say anything.

The teen looked down at his own french toast. He used to love this. He had hardly ever had it since his mom had died, but he had loved it. Stiles started cutting up the two thin slices of french toast into small squares to give him something to do to prolong the inevitable, he knew though that he would eventually have to eat it. He could use a distraction. Distractions often meant that he could eat easier without hating it so much.

"Can you turn back on Die Hard?" Stiles asked. Die Hard had been the movie that they were watching when the two of them had fallen asleep.

"Die Hard isn't a Christmas movie," his Dad said as he flipped another piece of french toast. He saw his father's hand still like he was thinking over his words and maybe he wished he hadn't said anything.

"Die Hard happens on Christmas, so it's a Christmas movie," Stiles said automatically defending without thinking first. It was an old argument with the two of them. His dad didn't have a problem with Die Hard, he just didn't think it was a Christmas movie while Stiles had always thought the opposite. Rather than continuing to argue about how Christmasy Die Hard was his Dad just said.

"Go ahead," Stiles grabbed the remote that was between him and Scott on the comfy black couch and put the movie back on. Stiles let himself be drawn back into the plot then fed himself some of the squares on his plate. The more he focused on the plot the less focused he was on the burnt taste of the french toast which he knew wasn't actually burnt, especially since Scott was gobbling them up happily. He managed to eat one and a half before his stomach started protesting and Stiles had to stop. Stiles stiffened and both his and Scott's head lifted in response to the soft steps on the stairs, they both relaxed at the same time realizing it was only Scott's mom coming down.

She grinned in a way that felt distantly familiar, but it had been a long time since he had been that happy on Christmas. She soon was sitting next to them on the couch working her way through her own pieces of french toast and Stiles focused back on the movie. Even when Christmas had been a bad time of year he usually had at least been happy and sometimes anxious for the present part. He turned his gaze to look at the tree. This year it was a real pine tree covered in tinsel and ornaments with many presents surrounding the bottom. It did little this year except for cause some anxiety.

"Presents time!" Scott said excitedly, clapping his hands together like a two-year-old. He ran the five feet that were between his current position on the couch and the tree and sat down tapping his feet a little impatiently. At that moment, he seemed every bit like a little kid. It was like he had forgotten all the stress of his life and the stress that Stiles was bringing him. Stiles decided that a part of him liked that and got up off the couch to join Scott without anyone telling him to so.

He sat down beside Scott cross-legged and immediately Scott started piling presents with his name beside him. Stiles considered for a moment doing the same but since that would require moving. Instead, he elected to stay where he was and let Scott pile the presents around him like he was constructing a small wall. His Dad and Mom joined them as Scott was still piling presents. Apparently, Stiles had a lot of them in the pile, probably more than anyone. A snide voice suggested that maybe they were trying to buy him out of his state, he didn't voice it though. He wished that they could just buy him out of it, but it was probably going to take more than a few gifts to do it.

Stiles looked around at the others unsure how to start as they had never really had all four of them Christmas morning before. It was usually him and his Dad and then later he would go over to Scott's and give them gifts. He and his dad just opened whatever they had given each other taking turns until Stiles's presents ran out and then Stiles would just finish his own stack. At Scott's house, he would wait until Scott's mom opened her gift and then he and Scott would open theirs simultaneously. The others seemed equally unsure of how to do this.

"Take turns?" Scott's Mom suggested and the others agreed. His Dad started first opening a tie. Scott's mom opened some perfume. Scott had unwrapped a t-shirt and Stiles some socks. Around and around it went, each time Stiles pile of the unwrapped pile got larger and larger. It quickly became very clear that he the most gifts as he still had a sizable pile of unwrapped gifts and the rest only had a couple. Stiles was to open another when a cell phone notification echoed through the room. Stiles looked over at Scott who looked sheepish and took his phone out of his pocket. Scott turned it on and then looked at the screen a puzzled frown coming onto his face.

"Scott put that-" The demand from his mom that was probably meant to be put that away was never finished as Scott's smile lit the room.

"It's snowing," and he moved back the curtain that had been covering the window. Stiles didn't notice as he got to his feet and looked outside the window next to Scott. For a moment, he thought that maybe this was some sort of attempt to get to him. Why else would there be snow on Christmas Day? But a quick look out the window and the sky disproved that theory.

There was snow, actually real snow falling to the ground. Beacon Hills was in California, far enough north that they got snow, but not far enough that they got it regularly. If they were lucky they got snow once a year and they had been known to not have any for years. It was so rare that he remembered a couple times that it had started snowing during school and the kids had rushed out of class because often the snow didn't last long. The teachers would always outwardly protest, but none really tried very hard to get the children back into class. He and Scott would, like the other kids, stand out in the snow and stick their tongues out catching the flakes. On the rare occasion, the snow stuck to the ground and there was enough of it, they had snowball fights.

He had always loved snow. It hadn't snowed here in three years. The last time he had seen it was when they went up a mountain that was at a high enough altitude that were was snow and that had been more than two years ago. Stiles blinked as he heard movement heading away from him and saw that Scott was throwing on his shoes and a jacket so that he could go out in the snow. Stiles paused for a moment unsure what to do. If this had been before he would have tried his best to beat Scott out the door.

He stayed still for a long moment, thoughts rolling through his mind like a fire. He could remember the feeling on snow falling on his face. He could remember loving that feeling, although he remembered it distantly. He wanted feelings like that back again, didn't he? He slowly walked outside not stopping to grab shoes or a jacket, mostly because he just didn't think about it. Scott was grinning ear to ear as he looked up at the soft flakes falling to the ground. Stiles lifted his hand and felt the soft flakes kiss the skin of his naked palm and melting in its warmth. The sensation was familiar but also misty like the way his memories felt,.. only this wasn't a memory this was real and actually happening. He could feel the moisture on his palm. He could feel the coolness in the air. He could feel the cold wetness on his toes from the dewy grass. This was real and it called back other memories of snow.

They were seven and there had actually been enough snow for an actual snowball fight the first that Stiles ever remembered. He was freezing his ass off as he packed a snowball together with his thin gloves that the cold leached through. He waited for the opportune moment to hit Scott with his snowball but failed spectacularly as Scott had snuck up on him and hit him with enough force to cause him to fall down into the snow. Even though he hadn't had the upper hand, he hadn't cared. He had giggled happily into the snow and then got up and chased after Scott again.

It still felt far away, like it happened to someone else, but at the same time it was closer than most memories. The feeling of happiness in his memories felt like it was almost his. He smiled a genuine smile for the first time in a long time.


	48. Chapter 48

Stiles looked at the large assortment of food in front of him warily. He felt like a pig that they were trying to fatten up so they could eat him. He sighed. The lightness from that morning had faded almost completely from him, becoming like his memories. Only this was slightly less distant. He reminded himself though of what his reward was for eating and got himself a roll.

He used to like rolls. He used to like everything that was on the table. Well except for cranberry sauce, he had never liked that. He buttered the roll liberally, probably more than he would have before, but the fattier the things that he ate were the quicker it would take him gain weight. Since in taste it was all about the same to him he didn't mind. He saw that everyone was looking at him with wide eyes probably because of how much butter he was putting on the roll, but they didn't say anything.

He was right he thought dryly. He was going to have to spend Christmas Dinner with everyone staring at him. He finished the roll and looked up and down the table because he was sure he could fit one more item in. He decided on a nice piece of ham and ate the glazed piece of ham slowly. Stiles was little annoyed that everyone was still watching him and not doing a very good job at pretending that they weren't. Stiles finished up his piece and left the dining room to sit in front of the TV and put yet another Christmas movie on. One might think that think after having watched so many Christmas movies he'd be more in the Christmas Spirit. He heard a Scott plop down on the couch with him a few minutes later and said.

'Dude, I love The Grinch Who Stole Christmas. Why didn't you wait for me?" Scott asked and Stiles shrugged as he was concentrating on the movie, though more so on the Grinch than the people of Whoville. The Grinch was unhappy and the people of Whoville were happy.

The Grinch's heart was two sizes too small, plus he had a host of other problems, like his shoes were too tight and his head not being screwed on just right. But it was the part where the Grinch's heart was two sizes too small that really got to him. Stiles felt that sometimes his heart was two sizes too small and other times felt too much. He was like the Grinch. Max was probably Scott, who stayed at his side even though Stiles lately hadn't been much fun to be around.

While he wasn't trying to steal Christmas, he was probably a real downer on residents of Whoville. He had always loved the animated movie, The Grinch Who Stole Christmas, but he had never related himself to him before. Before he just thought of the Grinch as mean. He wondered how exactly it was the Grinch got so mean. Obviously, he wasn't a fan of all the noise but he had also hated the feast and the singing. What had one year made him snap and try to take it all away? Stiles shook his head as he realized this was a cartoon about a Grinch and the residents of Whoville and it wasn't real. He went back to watching.

He found himself automatically wincing at the part where the Grinch took the film from the cameras. Stiles had done the same once when he was a kid. There was no getting that back and he had gotten very much in trouble for that.

Stiles watched as the Grinch forced Max to pull him all the way up that mountain. And as he waited, hoping to hear people's cries. Did he want to hurt other people? No, not anymore but he had to sometimes in order to keep them away from him. He still hurt people now, even if most of the time it wasn't intentional. But instead of hearing cries the Grinch heard happiness and was upset about it since he had wanted them to suffer. Then came what had always been his favorite part of the animated movie.

"'How could it be so. It came without ribbons. It came without tags, it came without packages boxes or bags.' he puzzled and fuzzed until his puzzler was sore and then he thought of something he hadn't before. Maybe Christmas doesn't come from a store? Maybe Christmas perhaps means a little bit more?"

Then, of course, the sled started falling and then the Grinch heart grew and everything had turned out okay. How could he make his heart grow three sizes like the Grinch?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christmas was nearly a month late for this story but it came, it came just the same.


	49. Chapter 49

 

It was a week after Christmas and a few days until they had to back to school and Stiles really couldn't wait. He was at the moment playing a racing video game with Scott having lost his passion for any violent video games. He found he had gotten some of his competitiveness back and he really wanted to beat Scott. Scott thankfully, was not letting him win. Ever since Scott had been turned into a werewolf he had been beating him on the rare, not life or death occasion when they could fit in video games due his heightened reflexes and awareness as a wolf. Now the two of them had a more even playing ground. As he crossed the finish line less than a second in front of Scott he found himself smiling. Before he probably would have leaped off the couch and started doing a celebratory dance, but a smile was the best he could manage now. At least it was real.

"Again?" He asked Scott, who nodded. They played for several more hours until Scott paused the game and turned to him looking concerned and worried. So pretty much how Scott always looked lately.

"You're not- you're not throwing up again are you?" Scott asked warily. Stiles frowned at the accusation, before he realized that he had been eating more willingly without having to be forced, so of course they were suspicious.

"No, I'm not," Stiles said honestly and he knew that Scott was using his werewolf trick on him. Stiles wondered if now he was a werewolf he could too, but he wasn't sure he wanted to know at this point in his life if people were lying to him.

"Okay," Scott said after a moment then turned the game back on.

* * *

It was the first day back at school and everyone was staring at him again, although he knew why. He was eating more than usual. Although he and Isaac knew why, the others were in the dark and thus the staring. Stiles decided to ignore that and drink more of his chocolate milk. He had always loved chocolate milk, though not so much school chocolate milk. It had always seemed less authentic than normal chocolate milk, or at least to him it always had, although he wasn't completely sure why he thought that. He shook his head, it didn't really matter. He drank more of the chocolate milk and ate more of his pizza. At least the food no longer tasted like ash and it was more like cardboard. It was a lot better than it used to be. It was a lot less difficult to make himself eat than it used to be, which was something.

The others had apparently gotten over it and were talking amongst themselves: something about Lacrosse or at least Scott and Jackson were talking about that. Allison and Lydia were talking about clothes or going shopping or something like that. He was content on just listening to the conversations intermittently as he chewed on his pizza. He was more interested in Scott's and Jackson conversation than Allison and Lydia's because honestly, he was not a fashionable person, to begin with. At the moment, he could care less if what he had picked from the closet that morning even matched. Scott and Jackson were talking about how the Lacrosse tryouts were in a month. Jackson taunting that now they were both werewolves there was no way that Scott was going to be captain again. Their conversation got him thinking, was he going to go out for Lacrosse this year? He had before and spent most of his time on the bench. Did he want to play a sport where people were always viciously tackling and whacking each other? Except that was what was going to happen when he trained with Derek and Isaac. There wasn't really anything different about lacrosse except that there were more safety precautions. If he did go out this year he would probably be as good as Scott was, he just wasn't sure if he wanted to or not. It seemed like something the old him would do and part of him wanted to just to feel like him, but he still wasn't sure.

* * *

It was dinner time again and it was interesting that it didn't bring as much dread as it used to before. He was able to eat most of what was put in front of him. His Dad had started to add a few small vegetables to their meals because of that. Stiles found himself falling back into the old habit of scraping them into a pile on the side of his plate. Now that he could somewhat taste food again he didn't want vegetables. His Dad looked at him strangely.

Scott wasn't there lately. His friend had been spending more time with his mom, possible due to the fact that he was eating more and not hurting himself lately. He found that was a part of him felt guilty that Scott's decision to help him meant spending so much time away from his mother. At the same time, Stiles was also a little grateful that Scott cared so much even after everything Stiles had put him through in the last couple of months.

"I don't want it," Stiles said and he smiled slightly because he had said that many times over the years when his dad tried to feed him vegetables.

"Well that certainly sound like my son," his Dad said under his breath. Stiles wasn't sure if he was supposed to have heard but smiled slightly in response. Smiles were getting slightly easier to come by these days as well. He wondered if the two had a correlation? He dug more into the hamburger that his Dad had made and found himself looking at his Dad's burger with a frown. It was like he suddenly remembered his Dad's condition. His Dad had been eating fatty stuff for months because Stiles would only eat a little and they would always try to give him the most calories that they could in the little amounts he would eat.

"Okay, I'll eat my vegetables if you will," he compromised and his Dad looked shocked again, but used his fork to pick up the vegetables he had buried underneath his remaining pasta. They both had their own tricks. Stiles speared some of the broccoli with his fork and put it into his mouth. It definitely wasn't as tasty as the pasta had been, even if the pasta had tasted like it had been very stale. His Dad also ate the broccoli and nodded at him.

"I think that's enough healthy stuff for today," Stiles said after a long look at his remaining broccoli. He was stuffed. He always tried to stuff himself every meal. It made him feel terribly uncomfortable for a few hours after every meal, but it had to happen since he had to gain weight in order to get what he wanted.

"Yeah sounds good to me too," his Dad replied with a smile.


	50. Chapter 50

It took Stiles one month of eating as much as he could and he'd still only gained two pounds. He knew that it was going to take a longer, but Stiles was already getting a little tired of waiting. He knew that his werewolf metabolism made him need more food than he had needed as a human and he still wasn't quite to where he had been as a human in portions yet.

However, there was good news. Sometimes, not all the time, though, he enjoyed what he ate, especially sugar. He had always been a big fan of sugar, but his Dad had always stopped him from eating large quantities worried it would make his ADHD worse.

Stiles and Scott were in his room. Scott had moved back in with his mom due to the fact that Stiles was doing a lot better, but Scott still hung out with Stiles until it was time for bed. This arrangement honestly wasn't much different than it had been pre-incident. Stiles was throwing a paper ball up into the air and catching it again while lying face up on his bed. Scott, on the other hand, was sitting on Stiles's computer chair spinning it around like he was a five-year-old. Stiles grabbed another Laffy Taffy from his bedside table. He had bought a big package of them and had been eating a few of them a day. They were one of the only things he craved. He didn't always look at the jokes on the packages because while he might be doing better, he still didn't find things as funny as he used to and most of them were corny enough to make him wince. This one was purple, grape he flipped it over and looked at the first joke.

WHEN IS A DOOR NOT A DOOR?

Stiles frowned as he didn't know he looked at the answer.

WHEN IT'S A JAR

Stiles found himself chuckling at little at that and Scott looked up from twirling around in his chair.

"Laffey Taffy joke," Stiles explained and then grabbed another one, this one was strawberry, but he didn't look at the joke before he started chewing on it. Scott looked at him expectantly and Stiles realized he wanted to know the joke. Stiles shrugged.

"When is a door not a door?" Scott's face turned contemplative and he looked up at the ceiling like he hoping the answer was written up there around the white swirls.

"I give up," Scott said with a shrug after a few moments.

"When it's a jar," Stiles said and chuckled slightly again. "Granted, it's more a riddle than a joke, but still it's a lot more clever than a lot of the other ones.

"Dude how-," Scott said then stopped himself and Stiles wondered what he had just been about to say.

"You do your homework?" Scott asked instead. Stiles was still ahead on all his homework due to sleeping as little as he possibly could. Nightmares lurked whenever he closed his eyes and the terror in those dreams was something to be avoided, if at all possible. If he was starved for sleep they seemed to happen a little less; maybe because his body knew that it needed sleep to survive more than it needed nightmares to work out whatever the hell nightmares worked out. It didn't always work, though, but that was something he didn't want to think about. No, he buried those thoughts and emotions deep down where the sun don't shine.

"Yeah," he said and tossed the paper ball up and down again. They had been doing this for about 15 minutes and Stiles was tired of it. Stiles sat up in bed and said.

"Hey, do you want to play something?" Scott nodded and the two of them went over to Stiles's TV. They had been playing a lot of games lately, but he supposed not that much more than they used to play before the light had been shed for them on the strangeness of Beacon Hills. He was just glad that for now, things seemed to be taking a supernatural break, he idly wondered how long that would last? He hoped for a while longer, just until he was in a more secure place. If something were to attack now he was sure that he would just crumble again Since it had taken him this long to make so little progress who knew if he would be able to fix himself if he crumbled again.

Stiles blinked as he remembered that they were trying to figure out which game to play. Not there was much choice. Stiles wasn't fond of the violent ones he used to love so much and that left racing games and a Mario game. He picked the racing game again, even though he had played it several times before. It was still kind of fun, though. The kind of fun that he had thought he would never have again.


	51. Chapter 51

Two weeks later and Stiles had gained four pounds. He wasn't quite sure how that happened since that was two pounds per week. That meant that he would have had to have eaten 7000 more calories than he needed, or did that work when he was underweight? He looked at himself in the mirror trying to see if he looked any more muscular or looked like he had gained any weight, but he thought he looked the same. Only four more pounds and then he could finally have what he wanted: to fight, to learn how to use his body. To not feel afraid. To not feel the fear he felt whenever he closed his eyes, or didn't have something like homework or video games to occupy his thoughts.

There was a reason he was always going, why he never stopped. Even when he looked like he was just sitting, he was forcing his mind to think of anything other than what happened. He wanted to dig his fingers into his skin to distract himself. Even though no one was home at the moment Scott would be able to smell it. Stiles went to his desk and pulled out his homework to give himself something else to focus on for a bit. It wasn't as helpful as pain, but he was determined he was going to do what he had to in order to get what he wanted.

The door downstairs opened a few minutes later and a single sniff told him it was Scott. It was so strange that a sniff could now tell him who was opening a door.

"I'm up here!" he shouted down to Scott, probably unnecessary as most of the time he was up in his room when Scott came over. Scott apparently was starting to trust him a little more since it was nearly six and Scott was barely coming in now. He had work, Stiles reminded himself. Deaton had some sort of emergency and Stiles had promised that he'd be okay with some time to himself and Scott had actually taken him at his word. It had been awhile since he had purposely hurt himself. He was close to his goal now, so he was more easily able to overcome all his urges to hurt himself by reminding himself that soon he would be able to fight.

"How was work?" Stiles asked looking back down at his homework. If he had to guess, he would guess that he was about a month ahead in every one of his classes. At least in reading and homework, in the ones that he could guess ahead of time or had already been given the assignment for. Most of his assignments were frankly overdone. He'd do them once to the best of his ability and then when he couldn't sleep some other day he'd do more research and add a few more pages onto it, or proofread, or rearrange the essay or paper so that it read better. He'd more than once rewritten his math assignment so that it was written neater even though his math teacher had never complained about being able to read his writing before. He once turned in a 16-page paper that he was pretty sure was only supposed to be 4 pages, to begin with.

"What are you working on now?" Scott asked frowning rather than answering his question. Stiles blinked and then processed the question.

"Our English paper."

"That's not due to the end of the semester," Scott said part disapprovingly and part in awe as Stiles, before, usually ended up trying to do it at the last moment. Granted, in the last year, it hadn't been his fault. He had been super busy with the whole trying to save his friends', and other people in Beacon Hills', lives. Scott knew about his hyper focus on school though by now. He even knew that Stiles was way ahead in school as Stiles had stopped hiding it as much.

"We just got the assignment today," he added and Stiles shrugged. It was either work on this one for the first time or recopy his math homework again. He had reworked his history paper 3 times and his economics homework twice, along with the first draft of his other seven papers that he had deadlines for. He didn't feel like reworking a paper right now.

"Stiles-" Scott started then dropped off. He'd lately been trying to be less naggy and more like the friend that he knew, but apparently, he didn't quite manage.

"Stiles you really ought to...you know...not focus so much on school." Stiles lifted his fingers from his computer's keyboard and lifted his eyebrows. Was Scott actually telling him not to focus on school? Scott huffed then shrugged.

"How about we play a game?" he suggested instead. Stiles nodded and got up from his desk.

"I'm going to kick your ass," Stiles said with a smile and Scott smiled as well.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to everybody for reading please let me know what you think :)


	52. Chapter 52

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf.
> 
> Thanks so much everyone for reading :)

 

* * *

Stiles stared down at the giant tray of food. They were eating outside of school today, the portions outside of school were a lot bigger than the ones inside of it. They were at a burger joint and Stiles had gotten himself just a regular hamburger, though he had gotten it with lots of onions. The more fragrant it was the less it seemed to taste like cardboard and the more it tasted like actual food.

Scott had given him a Neapolitan shake to go with it and Lydia some fries. They had said it was okay if he didn't eat it all, but he felt like he should. Still, it was fairly large shake and his own fries plus a hamburger... yeah, back before he would have been able to eat this all no sweat. His stomach though still hadn't quite rebounded to where he used to be.

His friends had also gotten better about not staring at him and were mostly talking with each other now, leaving him out of it if he wanted to be left out of it. Stiles listened to Lydia's and Alison's conversation about clothes only because Scott, Isaac and Jackson were all talking about lacrosse and he still hadn't quite decided whether or not he was trying out for it. He had paid enough attention to the conversation that he had eaten nearly half of everything. The shake being the easiest to swallow followed by the burger because of the strong onions. The fries had been the toughest to swallow, but he was again uncomfortably full of food.

Isaac caught his attention though with a subtle jerk to the left and Stiles nodded slightly. Isaac got up from the table. After a moment to make sure that Scott and Jackson were still into their conversation and didn't even seem to notice that Isaac was no longer talking, he got up as well. He saw Isaac standing near the exit and when Isaac saw Stiles coming towards him he made his way out the door to stand outside. Stiles followed Isaac until they sat down at one of the outdoor tables that a large umbrella over it. It was still January, but it hadn't snowed since Christmas so his light jacket was enough.

"I see you've eaten more," Isaac noted bluntly causing Stiles to smile. He really liked Isaac's blunt nature that he had when it was just the two of them. He just said what he thought and didn't give much of a damn about his feelings, which he really liked for some reason.

"Yeah well someone made me an offer I couldn't refuse," he said with a slight smile.

"How's it going?" he asked.

"Eight down two to go," Stiles didn't spell it out in case Scott was listening in on their conversation, because Scott was still close enough to do so if he happened to notice their absence.

"Really?" Isaac asked sounding surprised. Stiles shrugged, for the all the work it had taken, it seemed like a pathetically small amount of weight to have gained. He was eating larger portions now that he had been eating at the beginning. Stiles had managed to eat half of everything which was much more than what he would have been able to eat only a couple of months ago.

Gaining his appetite back was going to be a process and he was starting to see the fruits of that process already. He had slightly enjoyed his burger and he had been able to drink a lot of his shake. On the good days, he could see the link between eating more and feeling better about himself and others. On the bad days, the only thing he wanted to do was tear into himself and the only thing stopping him was Isaac's promise.

"Well, then we should be able to start soon. You still want to right?" Isaac asked and Stiles laughed a slightly bitter laugh.

"Oh, I want," Sometimes it was the only thing that got him through his day. Isaac nodded standing up from the table. Stiles listened in and heard Scott saying.

"Hey, guys, where's Stiles?"

"We should probably get back before Scott has a heart attack," Isaac said and Stiles nodded getting up as well. Since Scott had noticed their absence, his friend was likely on hyper-alert, so anything said between the two of them was likely to be overhead if not by Scott then by Jackson. Stiles gestured for Isaac to go first which he did and Stiles followed him back in. Scott looked up at him for a moment like a kicked puppy and for a moment Stiles felt guilty for making him worry, but he had only been outside and with Isaac for that matter.

"Dude I was just talking with Isaac while my burger settled," he said with slight annoyance. It used to be the two of them, but if one had run off for a minute, it never used to be a big deal. But he knew even if everyone, especially Stiles, wanted to pretend that there was no difference from before, just by the fact it was the five of them proved that it was different. He sighed as he knew Scott would be worried.

"Sorry," he said sliding back into his spot and picking up his shake again. Even though he was full he took a tiny sip as a small peace offering, which Scott seemed to accept. Isaac slid back into his own spot and they all stared at each other awkwardly for a few moments. Lydia was the first one to break the silence as she leaned over and started talking about fashion again with Alison. A few moments later the guys continued talking about lacrosse.

He looked around at all the people at the table. They were certainly new and he wasn't quite used to their constant presence yet. Especially with Jackson not being the jackass he was used to him being. He actually got to see another side of him, a side that he didn't hate as much as he was used to hating him. They had been around before, but he had ignored them mostly, he was just starting to get used to their presence. He supposed, like everything else, he was just going to have to give it time.


	53. Chapter 53

Stiles stared at the mirror at school. His dad had covered the mirror at home because Stiles had admitted that he and the mirror weren't the best of friends right now and his father had listened to him. He hadn't looked at his reflection in a long time, because it was a bad idea. The dark circles around his eyes were still there, like permanent bruises that had decided to never go away. His clothing was still really loose on him and his cheeks were still sunken in more than he was used to. His arms were covered by his loose green plaid shirt and he wore a white shirt underneath that. Thankfully at the moment, it was still winter. Stiles wasn't sure even when it got hot again if he was ever going to be to be able to wear short sleeved shirts again due to massive scarring on his arms both from himself and from….the place.

That's as far as he allowed himself to think about them before he focused on his thinness. Most of his body was covered in clothes but his face and hands weren't and it was very noticeable.

Despite the fact that he was at school, he wanted to destroy the mirror in front of him, smash it into tiny little pieces. He barely managed to stop himself. He would either get in trouble or worse get more pity stares from other people and no punishment. Stiles shook his head and walked briskly out of the restroom before he gave in and smashed the damn mirror.

He was technically supposed to be in study hall right now, but he had asked his teacher for a hall pass and was too antsy to go back to class at the moment. He knew he had to get back soon or Lydia or Allison was going to come after him, after all, he shared this period with the two of them.

He found himself walking down the hallway and then stopped abruptly as his eyes focused on something on the wall. The object gave him a sour feeling in his stomach. It was a flier for lacrosse tryouts. For the last few weeks, he had been thinking about whether or not to try out for lacrosse. Only he had just realized in that moment, due to his health issues he doubted that any sports team would allow him to play as he had to pass a physical and there was little hope for that.

For the last few weeks, he had thought that he had a choice in whether or not he could try out for the lacrosse team that he had been on all last year, even if he had ridden the bench most of the year. He had only played for a little bit and then had been kidnapped for the first time.

Man, he really wanted to hit something, some piece of property or himself. Himself would be good, except that he had Isaac's promise to keep and he wanted more to be able to defend himself than he wanted to hurt himself right now...just barely. Stiles stomped out the door and started walking in no particular direction, he just wanted away from that flier.

He hadn't been good last year. He had somehow, miraculous, played not so horribly. But even his lack of horribleness hadn't been enough to make it so that he was a part of the team, he had just been on the bench most of the time. He had assumed that he would have the choice of whether or not he wanted to play this year, but he didn't. There was no way in hell that any doctor was going to sign a form saying he was healthy enough to play with his BMI.

It seemed like no matter how much he managed to eat, or how much he improved he was never going to be able to do anything again or even make any decisions for himself. He cursed himself as he managed to walk straight into the lacrosse field. The one that he was never even going be able to practice on, even though he was a werewolf. If Scott's transformation had proved anything, he would rock on the field, then again Scott's problem had been asthma. Stiles' was that he tended to play like a newborn colt, still, his clumsiness and spasticity was probably equally as fixed as Scott, but he'd never find out, not this year.

He hadn't even been sure that he had wanted to play until he found that he couldn't. Stiles wanted it now more than anything, even if meant sitting on the bench all year like last year. It was something normal. Even if he hadn't been so good at it, he had loved it. Even, when it had only been Scott out on the field playing, it had been great. He wanted something normal like that again. Something to remind him of what his life had been like. Something that was untouched, or at least the most touched as he could have it, but he couldn't.

He wanted to break something, but other than some bleachers and the nets there wasn't much out there to break. He couldn't break himself he reminded himself. His hands were curling in and if he pressed his nails that were on the border of becoming claws any more into his palms he would be crossing that line, so he slowly unfurled them.

Instead, he stomped his way up the bleachers as loudly as he could, going all the way up and then all the way down. It didn't do much, unfortunately. He gave up, sat down on the nearest bench and looked down at the field. He looked down at the spot he had spent the most time last year, on the bench. He wasn't even going to be there this year. If anything he would be up in the stands.

He leaned his head into his palms hoping to keep them from hurting himself or trying to bend the bench and stared out at the field. In two days, they were going to have tryouts without him and there wasn't anything he could do.

Stiles's form trembled with anger and sadness for a few minutes until he looked at his watch. It was five minutes till the end of class. If he didn't get back before the bell rung he was going to have some very worried people to try to explain to and he didn't want that. He didn't want to get back to class, but he made his way back regardless.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, please let me know what you think :)


	54. Chapter 54

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments :)

 

Today was not one of his good days. None of the days had been since he realized that lacrosse would yet again be another thing taken away from him by those bastards. He knew his temper was short because of it and he knew that none of the others had any idea why. Didn't know that he was angry at them partially just because he was furious at the world and partially because they had never once asked him if he was going to try out for lacrosse. He knew they probably knew better than him that no doctor was going to let him play, but that didn't stop him from being mad about it.

He scowled at his lunch. Mashed potatoes, chicken, and corn. Not normally a terrible lunch, though even before it hadn't been great, but he could barely eat a few spoonfuls of it before he pushed the rest away. He wished his werewolf abilities included pyrokinesis as he really wanted to set his tray ablaze. He had been itching a bit for destruction ever since he had figured out that there was no way that he could try out for lacrosse.

"You okay?" Scott asked breaking into his thoughts. He wanted to turn on Scott and tear into him, but he had already done quite a bit of that both literally and figuratively in the past few months. He just nodded, Scott didn't look like he believed him though. Stiles snorted aloud as he realized he could really use some sort of physical exercise to take out his anger on, something like lacrosse which would be perfect for that...only his physicality at the present moment wouldn't allow for it.

It was crazy. He needed something physical to do, but his body was taking its sweet time letting him eat enough to do any of it. He looked down angrily at the tray that he had pushed away and huffed. He couldn't do anything until he gained weight and his body still barely thought some foods were acceptable. He pulled his tray back over to him. Why was eating such a project now when it had just happened naturally before? He speared his chicken and took several big bites, even though at times chicken was good, at the moment it had gone back to tasting like burned food.

Didn't matter. He was going to gain enough weight to be able to do something with this energy, even it was going to have to be learning to fight and not lacrosse like he had wanted. He moved onto his mashed potatoes which also tasted burned after he finished the chicken. He was going to eat his own plate even though it tasted worse than usual. Stiles was going to get strong enough and he was going to learn to fight.

* * *

One of Stiles's favorite classes was economics, not because he loved the subject or because he understood. In fact, it was because he understood it so poorly that he loved it, because his mind rarely wavered in that class to other things like it occasionally did in other classes. The massive amount of information he had to take in managed to calm him down a little. By the end of the class, he was no longer as angry about the whole lacrosse situation as he had been for the past two days. When class let out, he let all the other kids leave before making his way up to the coach who was erasing the board.

"Coach, can I talk to you?" Stiles managed to say after a moment. Coach Finstock looked at him for a moment then turned around and then swung back around to face him again.

"You're talking again?" He asked. Apparently word hadn't gotten around, then again it wasn't like he spoke that much to people outside of the small group of friends he had. He barely even spoke to his friends, especially at school.

"Uh yeah." He wasn't sure how else to answer a question like that. Coach Finstock stared at him for a long moment like he had never seen him before he nodded.

"Yeah, yeah, let's go to my office," he turned quickly seeming to take special care not to touch him and just waved a 'follow me' to him and started out the classroom. He knew where the Coach's office was but followed the Coach rather than keeping in step with him as they walked through the throng of the other kids scrambling to make their way to their next class. He was going to be late for his but the teachers still never made a big deal about it.

It didn't take much longer before the two of them were there and Stiles found himself staring around his office. Stiles remembered a prank he had planned for the coach's office for his birthday. Stiles was going to take all the screws out of everything. He had been planning to play it last year, only well...things hadn't gone as he had planned. He didn't know if he was still planning on doing it next year, he supposed he'd have to see if when the time came he still wanted to. 

Stiles looked at the coach who was looking nervously at him. Coach was scanning his body and seemed like he was about to say something, only to stop before he said a word and went back to scanning his body again. Stiles had a feeling he knew what was going through the coach's head.

"It's okay coach, I know I don't fit the physical requirements," He could practically see the stress leave the older man's form.

"Thank god," he breathed then his eyes widened " It's just you're like a frickin' skeleton," he added then his eyes widened further.

"Did I just say that out loud! You know I'm not good with words," he said he seemed to be horrified about what he had said. Stiles cracked a smile, bluntness still amused him as very few people were blunt with him anymore. Strangely enough, since the coach had always been pretty blunt, it was refreshing.

"I was really sad when I heard what happened to you, it's just you look like a single hit would break you into bits," he continued. However embarrassed he was of the words coming out of his mouth, he seemed just as unable to stop them.

"I'm not doing this well am I?" the coach asked him and Stiles shook his head.

"Why are you here again?" he asked and Stiles' smiled widened as he hadn't said more than one sentence since they had gotten into the office.

"Like I was saying, I know I don't fit the physical requirements," he said wondering how in the world he managed to find this so entertaining and how he was able to speak of this so bluntly. He supposed that Coach Finstock had helped by speaking of it so bluntly as well. "However I would like to play," he held his hand up as the coach opened his mouth, most likely to blurt more stuff about how fragile he was. "Not right now. I know I'm not eligible right now, but I was wondering if, during the season, that were to change, whether or not you would consider letting back on the team, even if it's just on the bench like it was last year?" Stiles asked strangely calmer than he thought he would be.

"Normally I would say no. I don't normally allow people to join mid-season," Stiles felt his heart sinking as he heard those words. Coach paused for a moment then said "But-" his heart and hopes starting rising again, but he tried to keep them from rising too high in case this but was not as good as he thought it sounded. "You know the rules of lacrosse and you did win us the game last year," Coach spoke carefully looking at the desk rather than at Stiles. "Besides it's a medical reason," he said with a shrug finally looking up at him. "Okay," he nodded, "if you during the season get a doctor to sign off on you playing, you can play," Stiles found himself smiling. Yes, it could take quite some time to get into the shape. He would need to be in to get on the lacrosse team and it was possible he wouldn't get there by the end of the lacrosse season. But now it was his choice again and that rose his spirit even more than he thought that it would.

* * *

 


	55. Chapter 55

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf

It had taken more than two months to finally achieve his goal. He had lost over 35 pounds from before he had been taken, to what he had weighed the first time he weighed himself when he had gotten home. That had probably had been influenced a bit by the feeding tube that he had placed in him because before Isaac had offered him the deal he had lost another five pounds. He gained ten pounds from that point. His BMI for his height and age was still too small, but it was a better and best yet it meant that he had officially after two months finally made the weight.

He was still too thin, he was pretty sure, to get a doctor's okay about doing lacrosse. But he finally had gained enough weight that at least he would be able to learn how to fight to protect himself. He found himself excited. It was an odd feeling for him. Stiles couldn't really remember the last time he really felt excited.

He stood in the bathroom as he looked at the covered mirror. There was a simple wooden board over it, as such he hadn't seen his face or what he looked like in a while. His fingers hovered around the edge of the board, it could be dangerous for him to bring the wooden board down. But he really wanted to see how different he looked since he was ten pounds heavier. 

He managed to lift the heavy board by himself as he didn't want to involve his Dad and then put it off to the side. The mirror reflected his image back at him. He didn't look that different, then again he had only gained two pounds since the last time he was really looked at himself in the mirror. His skin was still too tight to not draw attention but for some reason, he couldn't explain to himself he pulled off his long-sleeved plaid shirt. It was getting warmer and pretty soon it might get too hot for his long sleeved shirts, but it wasn't like he was going to be able to go without them. He wasn't sure why he was doing this when he knew what a trigger this was and knew how it usually made him feel. However, he focused not on the scars that marred his form but more on his stomach. It stuck out more than it had before and made him look a little less like...well like a skeleton. He found himself gazing at his stomach for a long moment before his eyes started drifting over the scars. He shook his head, he had put the wooden board back before it

It was getting warmer and pretty soon it might get too hot for his long sleeved shirts, but it wasn't like he was going to be able to go without them. He wasn't sure why he was doing this when he knew what a trigger this was and knew how it usually made him feel. However, he focused not on the scars that marred his form but more on his stomach. It stuck out more than it had before and made him look a little less like...well like a skeleton. He found himself gazing at his stomach for a long moment before his eyes started drifting over the scars. He shook his head, he had put the wooden board back before it drug him down into the pit of despair like it usually did. He lifted the board from the floor back into its place across the mirror. He focused on the weight he had gained and what it meant, rather than the scars that danced across his eyes wanting to pull him back into the abyss. He took out his cell phone and dialed a number that he had only texted before and only briefly.

"Hello," the voice came from over the phone.

"Hey Isaac," Stiles greeted but before Isaac could return the greeting he plowed on to what he had called to talk about "I gained the weight." There was a short pause on the other end before Issac said.

"Really?" Stiles nodded then realized he was on the phone and had to answer verbally.

"Yep," There was another short pause on the phone before Isaac said.

"I'll talk to Derek and text when and where later okay?"

"Sounds good," Stiles agreed, "Until then?" Stiles asked.

"Till then," Isaac affirmed and then ended the call. Stiles found himself smiling and bouncing his leg a little. He stopped both abruptly as bouncing his leg slightly was one of his ADHD things. He had stopped taking Adderall because, well, when he had come back he hadn't felt at all ADHD. He was also pretty sure it was also supposed to conflict with one of his anxiety or depression medications that he had been taking since Thanksgiving. He wasn't sure if that meant that his ADHD was coming back. He hoped not, but still, the motion was kind of foreign to him, like remnants of a bypassed era. Stiles smiled again moments later though putting the other thoughts outside of his mind and just thinking about how after so long he was finally going to learn what he wanted. He was going to learn how to fight. How to take care of himself so that if someone ever tried to abduct him again he'd have a chance in hell in fending them off.


	56. Chapter 56

'Tonight midnight.' He read on his phone during lunch. It was from Isaac's number. The two of them were sitting at the same table, but this was probably the best way to have a private conversation without all the other werewolves at the table being able to listen in. Midnight was not a problem. He was rarely asleep by midnight anymore. Usually, he ended up nodding off at 3 or 4 and sleeping 2 or 3 hours until his alarm clock woke him up.

'Where?' He asked even though he had a pretty good idea, he just wanted to make sure.

'The railway station,' came the reply a few seconds later. Stiles nodded and replied.

'Kay I'll be there.' He put down his phone next to his tray and ate the not so great food. This time he wasn't sure if it was because of his particular condition or because the food itself wasn't so good, as he was not the only who made a face when chewing their lunch. Still, he probably was going to have to maintain his weight and that meant eating this food, no matter how disgusting it was. He set about doing just that.

That night his Dad was home in bed and asleep. Scott was presumably at his own home doing the same. Stiles was working on the third or fourth draft of an assignment. He only would be doing so for another 5 or 10 minutes because pretty soon he was going to sneak out.

It had been quite a bit of time since he last tried to sneak out. He honestly couldn't remember the last he had done it. Since Stiles was doing so well lately his door could be closed but wasn't allowed to be locked. That would have been something in his favor, though, because if his Dad woke up and tried to check on him Stiles was going to be in a lot of trouble.

Stiles put his pen down because his nerves were making it a little hard to concentrate on his homework. Instead, he decided to start making it look like he was still asleep by using blankets underneath his blanket. If his Dad went past the room and opened the door he would hopefully just see 'him' and not look further. He wasn't really sure how likely it was but he felt he should at least do something. By the time he shaped the blankets into the closest approximation of himself that he could it was almost 12. He made his way to the window and looked out. He hadn't used the window to exit the house in a while but his body still instinctively knew how to jump and land to reach the ground safely.

It didn't take him long to get to the railway station, even though he was going on foot. Stiles stopped running as Derek and Isaac turned to look at him the moment he had come down the stairs. Neither of them was wearing shirts but Stiles wasn't going to follow suit. Not when being shirtless was such a trigger for him. The shirt he had on though wasn't really one he cared if it got destroyed.

"You really gained the weight?" Derek asked and Stiles nodded.

"Well, you can't lose it okay. You want to keep fighting, you can't lose the weight that you've gained," Stiles nodded. Being more active meant more eating but he could deal with it, if it meant that he was going to be able to learn how to fight and to take care of himself.

"Ready?" Derek asked and Stiles nodded.

He felt hair appear on the sides of his head. Part of him wondered why it was that werewolves had sideburns but only when they were shifted, but the bigger part of him was focused on Derek and Isaac who had shifted as well. Derek's red alpha eyes and Isaac's yellow beta eyes were staring at him waiting for him to make the first move. He felt the wolf in him surge to the surface and it wanted to fight. It wanted to fight badly. It wanted to hurt, to maul anyone in proximity, though Issac more than Derek. Derek was his alpha and his wolf was slightly wary and respectful of him. That really hadn't made much of difference the last couple of times they had gone toe to toe but he had been in different mindset back then.

Stiles watched the two circle around him in a predatory manner, their chests practically rippling with ferocity. He tracked their movements with his eyes waiting for them to make a move. The two instead circled him for a little longer although what they were waiting for he didn't know. The longer they waited the more annoyed he got. After a few more minutes he stopped waiting and tried to claw Isaac but he dodged out of the way.

"Come on fight me!" Stiles yelled and a second later, too fast for him to catch, he was thrown across the floor; though not far enough to hit the wall. He hissed as he felt his ribs heal from the break Derek's kick had caused. Stiles looked up and saw Isaac and Derek glaring at each other in a silent argument. What it was about he didn't know, but it seemed finished when Derek growled lowly but then turned back to face him. Derek walked right up to him so that the two of them were only separated by a few feet, when a fist was suddenly flying in his direction. Stiles quickly stepped back to avoid it and straightened back up in the next second as this time Isaac tried to sweep him off his feet using his legs in a move that was really kung-fu-like. 'Could he do that?' He got so distracted that Isaac easily managed to push him hard into the floor. Before he could move, a leg pushed his chest down so that he couldn't get up and could hardly breathe. Derek looked down at him so calm and smug that Stiles wanted to rip that smirk right off his face...unfortunately, he couldn't move.

"It's not as easy as it looks is it?" Stiles tried to propel himself off the floor with his legs but just ended smashed back into the floor with a loud grunt.

"Can I get up now?" He said through gritted teeth after a long moment. Derek nodded and lifted up his leg and Stiles quickly sprung to his feet.

"Alright, now just me." Isaac nodded stepping aside. Okay, this was a much fairer fight now. He thought that for about half a second before he was flying through the air. He hadn't even seen the alpha move. He grunted in pain as he yet again picked himself off the cold hard concrete. While he was getting up he looked up at Derek who seemed to be enjoying himself. A brief glance at Isaac showed worry in his eyes and he kept glancing between Stiles and Derek like he was worried about how much Derek was beating him. He looked like he wanted to stop them.

"I'm good," Stiles told him not wanting Isaac to try and stop this. Isaac seemed more concerned about him getting hurt than either Derek or himself. Isaac nodded but only looked slightly less worried. This time he saw Derek's fist coming towards him but even though he was able to move his body much faster than he had been able to when he was human, he moved it too slow and grunted slightly in pain. He hadn't recovered yet when Derek yet again pounded him into the floor. This time he didn't spring right back up as he was breathing rather heavily and was more than a bit winded. Derek walked into his field of vision but thankfully didn't attack or stand on him in any way. The smirk was gone and he looked deadly serious. He crouched down so they were more level. He had a feeling that this wasn't normally a part of his training course.

"This is going to be hard. You sure you're ready to learn?" Stiles nodded. It's what he wanted more than anything. "Alright, then you better listen and listen well. A lot of fighting for werewolves is instinctive," Derek explained standing back up straight and starting to walk around a bit as he explained.

"When someone attacks you, your wolf generally knows what to do. Most technique isn't needed unless you're dealing with hunters or other wolves. However, sometimes even non-hunters can get the upper hand and sometimes your wolf isn't strong or smart enough to win on instinct that's why learning technique is so damn important." He nodded, he got it. He wanted to learn too, to get stronger in case- he violently ended that thought before it could send him down the rabbit hole. Instead, he made his way slowly back onto his feet. He was starting to get tired again. No matter how much weight he had gained or the amount of food that he had eaten, he was still underweight and eating less than a boy his age and weight should. This little tussle was already starting to make him feel more than a little tired.

"You ready," Stiles nodded. Yes, he was.


	57. Chapter 57

 

Stiles felt something only distantly familiar bubble up inside of him as he stared at the eggs and hash browns that his Dad was making. It had been so long since he felt it, it took for a few moments to figure it out. Hunger. He was hungry. He could eat and sometimes he could even enjoy it. But before eating he didn't feel hungry, at least not really but he felt hungry now. Maybe it was all the exercise? Maybe it was him finally having some semblance of control in his life? But whatever it was, after last night, well he supposed early this morning, he felt hungry.

The smell of the eggs and hash brown wafted in his nostrils making his stomach growl, though not loud enough to alert his Dad. Apparently, the food was done since his Dad started plating it. Stiles' eyes fixated on the two plates his father had in his hands as he moved to the table. Usually, food meant little to him. It was just something he had to eat and rarely enjoyed the taste of, but now his mouth was watering and he couldn't seem to look away from the plates which seemed to be moving in slow motion. His father finally set one in front of an empty chair presumably his own, as his Dad's was much bigger than Stiles, who even though he knew his father wished he would eat more, his Dad knew that he had to work up to it. His Dad grabbed two forks and set them down on the side of each plate.

Stiles grabbed the fork as soon as it hit the table and started tearing into the eggs with a ferocity, that for a long time he had lacked. He managed to slow down long enough so that he could eat both the eggs and hash browns together like he liked to do in the past and eagerly shoved the food into his mouth. It tasted really good. Like really really good. Better than he remembered it ever tasting.

He ate the food on his plate in about a third of the time it normally, or at least for the past 3 months, took him. Stiles was full, slightly uncomfortably full, but it had been delicious and he found himself peering at his Dad's food. Stiles couldn't eat it, he knew he couldn't but he found himself wanting to try. He noticed then that his Dad was staring at him with his mouth open. Right. It was totally not like him to eat food with such vigor and of course, his Dad noticed. Stiles smiled a little nervously at him before he hopped up from the table.

"I gotta to go, Dad. I'm going to be late for school." He wasn't. Stiles usually spent another five or ten minutes at the table trying to psych himself up to eat just another bite. He quickly snagged his backpack off a neighboring chair and went to the driveway where Melissa was dropping Scott off. He nodded at her as she drove off. As soon as she started driving off, Stiles grabbed Scott's elbow and started leading him towards the jeep, hoping to get out of there before his Dad snapped out of it. Scott frowned as Stiles pulled at him.

"Shouldn't you still be eating breakfast?"

"Finished breakfast. School now, gotta go," He said pulling the still confused Scott towards the jeep using a little more force. Scott gave him a strange look but continued to let Stiles pull him towards the vehicle. As soon as he pulled Scott to the door he went around the other side and got in the passenger's seat. Scott got into the driver's seat and the two of them pulled away.

* * *

His appetite was back and with a vengeance. Or maybe this time it was personal? For the past week, he had been hungry at most meals and food started finally tasting like he remembered. Pizza, was glorious. Hamburger's, yum. Ice cream, sweet. It was like discovering the taste of things all over again. He had made Scott and the others go out for lunch every day that week and was currently gorging himself on pasta.

Man, how he loved pasta. Everyone stared at him for a few seconds at a time, then tried to pretend like they weren't and turned around to talk to each other. His whole sudden food enthusiasm thing had taken him and everybody else in his life by storm. Even Isaac, who had been to every one of their, for now, tri-weekly training sessions as Derek called them, was surprised by his sudden onslaught of hunger. (The sessions, which were really just Derek kicking his ass all over the place while teaching him what not to do and occasionally correcting his form.)

"Oh I love alfredo," he said, rubbing his stomach. With his appetite back he seemed to be cramming himself fuller than normal, though, at the time it didn't seem so bad. He often got stomach aches later that almost made him regret it but, he could never find it in himself to. He was going to finish this plate, even though it was a restaurant sized portion and he normally could only eat ½-¾ of his smaller school lunch tray.

His stomach was starting to jut out a little more, though that was the only outwardly difference he could see; not counting the massive, at least to him, amounts that he had been eating. That and he had gained 2 pounds just this week. Though, most of the weight he seemed to be gaining seemed to be in his stomach area. He would prefer it in his face and hands, so he could stop feeling like a freak that everyone stared at, but he knew that weight gain or loss didn't always happen in a uniform way.

He didn't ask why everyone was staring, in case they asked him why he was eating. Instead, he focused on the food in front of him. Sadly, there were only a couple noodles left and despite his groaning stomach, he set about to finish all of them.

* * *

"Okay, what's going on?"

"Um... I'm hungry," he said though it came out more like a question. Not putting his fork down he worked to eat more of the fried rice that his Dad had brought home.

"Yeah I got that," his Dad said unimpressed "Why?" Stiles shrugged. He had an idea, but he wasn't sure, plus he was sure that his dad wouldn't like Stiles, Derek, and Isaac fighting, even if the others were probably holding back and he could heal easily.

"'m jus hunry," he said talking with his mouth full, his dad looked even less impressed at that comment.

"Don't talk with your mouthful," he admonished. This time Stiles finished chewing before he spoke.

"Then don't ask me questions when my mouth is full," He responded before taking another bite of his sweet and sour chicken. His Dad shook his head in an exasperated way before eating his own food.

They were eating unhealthily again. Not so good for his Dad's heart, but his Dad was working more hours lately and there wasn't a lot of healthy takeout options. That was the reason that Stiles sometimes cooked dinner for his Dad. Stiles frowned as he realized that yet again he had forgotten about his dad's health problems because he'd been far too into his own head.

"I can start cooking again," Stiles offered as he finished one bite before eating another one.

"What?" his dad asked stopping his fork before it could get into his own mouth. Yeah, he wasn't sure where that had come from, except that he was worried about his Dad's health again. Besides, it wasn't exactly like he had lots of extracurriculars going on at the moment. Right now, the supernatural side, well whatever was happening with it, he wasn't involved in it. And he still was pretty sure no doctor was going to let him on the lacrosse field at the moment. Too bad Deaton was an animal doctor, he might have signed off on it.

"I'll go back to making dinner a couple of times a week," he said like it was nothing. Apparently, his dad didn't agree cause he kept staring at him. Stiles chewed the last of his sweet and sour chicken and then said.

"Okay sounds like a plan," he said without waiting for any further response, then got up and made his way back to his room. Despite being able to eat again, the rest of his problems had not magically floated away just because he was finally able to eat more or less like a normal person. In a perfect world, they would have.

Granted, in a perfect world, he'd be some normal/almost popular kid, whose biggest worry was who to take to prom. Hell, he'd settle for being any Joe Shmoe normal kid, who didn't have to worry about kanimas, werewolves, or being kidnapped or tortured. But that wasn't his life. This was. He was a teenage werewolf who had to keep busy or else the memories would attack him leaving him as nothing but an empty shell. He had hoped that once he had started training that this fear would have magically melted away, it hadn't.

The nights he spent with Derek and Isaac were his favorite ones. The ones he spent in his room, by himself, doing hours and hours of homework were decidedly less awesome. He was still months ahead at school. Maybe it was good because some of his teachers were actually starting to give a crap about his work again, although they still gave him quite a bit of leeway compared to everyone else. He supposed a few months was all the grace period some allowed him. Not that it mattered. His work now was better than it had been ever since Scott had become a werewolf. With that in mind, he opened up the second draft of an essay that wasn't due for another 2 months and settled into his desk for the night.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for continuing to read. If you could let me know what you think I would really appreciate it.


	58. Chapter 58

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading.

 

It was his fourth full moon and the last three hadn't gone much better than the first. His inner wolf was really pissed off and aggressive and he still didn't have an anchor. Anger and aggression thrummed through his veins as he looked at the position of the setting sun the oranges and pink fading into the sky heralding the arrival of the moon. Scott would be here soon and the two of them would head to the railway station, again.

Hopefully, Scott wouldn't be able to tell that he had been there three times in the last week. Hopefully this time he also wouldn't try to tear them all into shreds. Thankfully, after the first time, Derek had brought a stronger chain which hadn't yet broken. Instead, he snarled at them at times insulted them and if he got too close he swiped violently at them. At least from what he could fuzzily remember that's what happened on the last full moons.

He heard his door slam opened and jumped because he had gotten too lost in his thoughts to notice that Scott was there.

"Ready?" Scott asked. Stiles nodded several times as he followed Scott out of the room. As the two of them made their way to his jeep he was hit with the overwhelming urge to bring his claws out and dig them into Scott's back, which he held onto tightly. Scott really didn't need him to stab him in the back right now, he really really didn't. He closed his fists tightly, trying to prevent himself from harming Scott. The sooner the two of them got to the railway station and chained him up the better it would be for everyone. Stiles dug his fingers into his jeans gripping them for dear life, as he battled his bloodlust and the instincts in him that wanted to attack Scott and cut his friend into tiny little pieces.

When they pulled up to the entrance to the railway station, it was not soon enough. Stiles didn't even wait for Scott to turn the car off before he was out and tearing down the steps to the pillar where he had been chained up the previous months. The chains and cuffs were already there. He didn't wait for anyone though before he started chaining himself up. He knew he wasn't going to be able to resist much longer. When he got to the last few chain links Scott and Isaac approached him from opposite sides together. They fastened the chains as quickly and securely as they could before they stepped back to make sure that there were no missing pieces. It was just on time. He felt his sideburns pop out along with his fangs. His world became tinted by a red haze and from there, he was lost.

While he mostly liked the normally unfelt intensity of the wolf's emotions, it was rather dangerous for those around him.

* * *

He shot up from the ground only to immediately feel rather chilly. He quickly realized his clothes were shredded. And all that was left, left very little to the imagination. He felt heat rise to his cheeks as he looked around the room to try to figure out what had happened. He quickly spotted a blanket which he used to cover himself. The room was mostly dark, the way it always was but there was a stream of light coming from the entrance so it was probably day.

"You tried to get out again. Near the end, you almost succeeded too." Stiles jumped at the unexpected voice and felt sheepish afterward. He should have heard Isaac coming long before he actually had been in view.

"You got one seriously angry and pissed off wolf." Didn't he know it? He thought, curling close into the gray, somewhat scratchy, blanket. Isaac didn't speak as he sat down by him against the wall.

"What happened last night?" Stiles asked as he scooted back slightly so that his back was resting against the wall as well.

"You think by now I'd be able to remember at least some of it," he whispered somewhat bitterly. He was pretty sure that most werewolves by their fourth full moon had control or at least could remember what the hell they did other than faint snatches.

"I think we only made it stronger by teaching you to fight," Isaac said not really answering his question. Stiles' eyes anxiously darted around, but before he could work himself too far into a frenzy, Isaac added. "Scotts not here. He went to go get you some clothes. He wasn't expecting to need to so he didn't bring an extra set." He relaxed slightly, at least Scott hadn't heard that, so they could still train. Right? He lifted his blanket slightly and among all the torn clothes were some pink lines on his skin. He looked up at Isaac who seemed to get where his mind had gone.

"We know it was the wolf, not you... well at least you weren't in control,"

"That's because you have no control. The moment you're chained you completely give yourself over to the wolf." Stiles winced as Derek's harsh voice cut through the railway station. He slowly came into view. Where he had been before was anyone's guess.

"Derek-" Isaac started what sounded an attempt to defend him but Derek cut him off.

"He's not a kid. Yeah, he went through some terrible stuff, some stuff most can't even imagine. But if he had gotten out last night he could have done some terrible stuff and what frame of mind would he be in then? He needs to learn control."

"He barely started training a week ago, you can't expect that much progress in so little time," Isaac defended him.

"I'm trying!" he shouted but hunched in on himself more. He wished he was fully clothed if they were going to argue, he would feel a lot less exposed.

"Well try harder!"

"Derek!" Isaac said sharply which surprised everyone in the room. Isaac looking out for him is something he had grown used to, but usually only in a somewhat conflicted sort of hesitant way. At least in front of Derek. "Your way worked with me, but I don't think it will work with Stiles," he finished more softly. Stiles gave Isaac an appreciative glance. To think there was a long time when he didn't really like him at all. Actually, there was quite a lot of time he didn't like him...but not anymore. Derek sighed and closed his eyes, he rolled his shoulders and seemed to be trying to calm down. When he opened his eyes they seemed a little less intense than before...a little.

"I understand that this is probably hard, harder for you than it was for any of us. And it may take longer than any of us expected, but to make any progress you have to find an anchor."

"Yeah I know but you know that's easier said than done, particularly in my case," Stiles snapped back.

"Anchors are hardly ever easy."

"I don't know, Scott seemed to find his within like a week." Mentioning Scott's anchor, which was Alison, somewhat bitterly. It hadn't taken him months to find and hold onto an anchor. Derek nodded.

"It's easier for some than others and sometimes it changes," Stiles looked up nervously at the alpha wolf, especially since the question he wanted to ask was more than a little bit personal than they usually got.

"What's your anchor?" he asked the alpha. Derek stared at him with those intense eyes that had always made him a little nervous, even before Derek had been his alpha.

"Anger," he said after a long moment of silence then started walking away. "Just try to find one before next month. I don't want to be doing this a year from now," Derek called as he went up the stairs that would take him away from the railway station. His eyes flickered to the teen beside him.

"Can I-"

"My dad," Isaac interrupted without looking at him but down at the dirty concrete floor that the two of them were sitting on.

"Your Dad?" Stiles asked his brows furrowing. "But he-"

"I know, but he didn't always," Isaac said with a slight smile that seemed odd considering that Isaac's dad had beat him and locked him in a freezer. But he was in no more control of what Isaac felt about his Dad than he was about anything else.

"How do I find an anchor?" he asked instead.

"I don't know. I didn't know my Dad would be my anchor until the first full moon hit and my Dad, from before, came to mind."

"That's really helpful thanks," he said sarcastically. Isaac smiled slightly but then asked.

"Is there anyone who makes you feel safe, happy and protected?" That was a good question. There were a lot of people that used to make him feel safe, happy and protected but that was before it had taken them 4 months to find him. Was there anyone that still fit that description? He searched through his mind eliminating people as he went. Scott, His Dad, Derek, Allison, Lydia, all people he cared about in some fashion or other and he was doing his best to forgive and forget but those people hadn't found him, not for four months.

Wait. There was one person. One person who had never let him down.

"My mom," Stiles said in barely a whisper. "She's dead but...she-she made me feel like that." He closed his eyes and imagined her long brown hair, her kind smile and the way her face lit up when he had done something great. He missed her. The sharp pang of loss, even though he had lost her years ago, washed over him yet again. He felt something grip his shoulder tightly. His eyes darted up quickly in shock before he remembered that Isaac was sitting right beside him.

"Try that the next time you feel like spinning out of control, or like your life is impossible. Try holding onto to your mom." Stiles nodded several times. His mom, his mom could be his anchor, or at least he could try it. He couldn't possibly do any worse in that department than he already was. Their heads as one moved to the ceiling as they heard someone going down the stairs. He could smell him.

"He's coming," Isaac said unnecessarily but he stood up from his position on the floor. He started walking towards the stairs like he was going to leave.

"Hey," Stiles called without thinking. The young werewolf turned around.

"Thanks." Isaac nodded before heading back up the stairs. Scott was down the stairs a few seconds later non-torn up clothes in hand.

"Oh thank god!"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading please let me know what you think.


	59. Chapter 59

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  don't own Teen Wolf
> 
> Thanks everyone for sticking with me there only going to be two more chapters, it's nearing it's end *sniffs*

 

* * *

It sucked, being on the bleachers rather than on the crisp grass ready to try out for lacrosse with the others. But he was there to support Scott, Jackson and Isaac who were trying out. Though with their werewolf strength, he didn't think anyone was really worried about them making first line. He tried not to be bitter about it and just be happy for his friends, but he struggled with it every moment that he sat there and watched them. He struggled despite sitting next to Allison and Lydia who were cheering as the guys raced up and down the field. He wanted to be on the field, but his stick arms and legs were too thin for that, even if he was eating more and more each week.

"Hey," Stiles was jolted out of his thoughts by Lydia's voice. "You okay?" Stiles' eyes darted to her and Alison who were looking at him concerned. His annoyance and bitterness increased even as he tried to bat it down. They were just concerned. They knew how much it sucked for him to be here rather than on the field. They didn't deserve him to snap at them like he wanted to.

"I'm fine, I just wish I was with them," he managed to get out and his eyes went back to the field. "I mean I'm a fricken werewolf, I should be out there with them," he hissed under his breath but apparently the girls heard him and they looked at him with even more concern. Which increased his annoyance causing the pen he had been twirling around a bit anxiously to snap in half like it was a pencil. The ink got all over his hands before he angrily tossed it off the end of the bench.

"Dammit!" he yelled getting to his feet. Apparently, he could break a pen but he couldn't play a damn game! The two girls looked even more concerned and now a bit wary. 'Calm down,' he told himself. It was just a game. Just a game. Just a game that he couldn't play!

"Sorry, it's just, not making first string is one thing, not being able to even try out is another," he said honestly to the two of them. He hadn't even talked about it with either Scott or Isaac but it was for some reason easier to talk to Allison and Lydia about it despite neither of them playing. Or maybe because of it?

Didn't matter, despite his best efforts it was driving him crazy to stay on the sidelines while the others tried out. He'd try again when they actually had a game, but for now, he couldn't do it. He stomped his way down the mostly empty bleachers. Not many people showed up for tryouts, after all. It was mostly games that drove people in. While he couldn't leave because Scott had the keys, it wasn't like there wasn't anywhere to go. He slammed his way through the school entrance, thankfully no one heard him cause then he'd just have to deal with more staring, and he hated the staring. He paused in the doorway not sure where to go. Tryouts were going to be for another half an hour to an hour depending on how long it took to hash out who was on the team and who wasn't. The library would probably still be open, even if everything else was probably closed and locked by now. He took a few steps in that direction when he heard the doors open behind him.

"You know you didn't have to follow me," he said as he swung around to face her. A part of him was glad that she did. The part that still crushed on her, who thought she looked very attractive in her short dark blue dress. Unfortunately, she was with Jackson and the part that was attracted to her was buried in several different layers of dark thoughts directed at himself.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay," she said softly, approaching him slowly, almost like she was afraid he was going to attack her. He sighed.

"I'm sorry," he apologized again, "I just can't do it. I can't just sit there and watch them. Being a werewolf was supposed to fix all this. It was supposed to fix everything."

"Who said it would?" Lydia asked gently as she kept walking towards him.

"It did with Scott. We were nobodies. He became a werewolf. He got to be first line and got the girl. Yeah, he had to deal with a couple of hunters and Peter but pretty much everything worked out for Scott. I'm just this selfish, angry, and bitter guy who should be happy for his friends, but all he can think about is how things aren't going as well for himself as they did for his friends."

"You're not Scott," he scoffed.

"Yeah, I know that,"

"No, I mean that two of you are different but that doesn't make Scott better or you worse. It just makes you different," he sighed again.

"I know, I know. Sometimes it just doesn't feel like it. Thanks for coming after me. I think I just need to get out of my head for a little while." He started walking off again.

"What are you going to do?" Lydia called after him.

"Go to the library." He didn't have his homework with him or he would've worked on that. "Maybe read a book or something," he called back to her.

* * *

He browsed the books but nothing caught his attention. Instead, he just plopped onto one of the computer chairs. At least he could surf the web until Scott was ready to go.

Googling random stuff was something he used to do a lot especially when he was bored so he fell back on the habit. Googling random things like birds, the weather, werewolf and other creature legends...just in case. Then he googled Beacon Hills. When the page came up he froze as he took in the contents. He clicked one of the main stories and then click after click led him deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole.

After who knew how long, he had to know the truth. He stood up from the computer and ran to the lacrosse field, thankfully they seemed to be done. Isaac, Scott and Jackson were chatting as they were cleaning and packing up their stuff.

"I need to talk to Isaac," he said and pulled Isaac out of the field and as far away and he could stand before he turned around to face the confused teenaged werewolf. But he needed to ask him, he trusted him more than anyone to tell him the truth, the unvarnished truth.

"Isaac, I need you tell me exactly what happened when I was gone."

* * *

How had he been so far into himself he hadn't noticed so many obvious things? He must be unbelievably stupid or incredibly selfish to not have noticed anything. "Why didn't you tell me?" He demanded to a very confused looking Scott, who had just swiveled to face him on his computer desk chair. Stiles' eyes darted around the room for a minute. It had been awhile since he had been to Scott's room, usually, Scott came to him. But just as quickly he shoved that thought from his mind. Stiles had come here with a purpose and after stewing for a few days he wouldn't let anyone distract him from that.

"Tell you what?" Scott asked confused putting down his pen that he was probably using to do homework or something.

"I wasted so much energy on being angry with you. Why didn't you just tell me why it took you four months to find me?" Scott's eyes widened then he spoke softly.

"Oh...Isaac told you?"

"After I found the death certificates for half a dozen people, including Heather, Boyd and Erica. Why didn't you tell me? You knew I was mad at you! Why wouldn't you tell me?!"

"Because I still should have saved you first," Stiles huffed but he wasn't angry at Scott or his father, at least as much as he had been. He supposed deep down he probably was still a little angry but much less than he had been before Isaac had told him what he had.

"I can't believe that you've fought against an entire pack of alphas and my head been shoved too far up my ass to even notice that things have changed. That Mr. Harris wasn't there and that Boyd and Erica aren't either." Stiles said while shaking his head in disbelief.

"You were kind of busy-" Scott started even though Stiles could see the pain and guilt in his eyes when he had mentioned the two of them.

"What? Feeling sorry for myself? Taking it out on everyone around me? Being a complete and utter asshole?" he countered angrily and bitterly. 

"You weren't an asshole." Stiles lifted his eyebrows incredulously and Scott sighed.

"Okay, yes for a while there you were an asshole." Stiles smiled at that even though none of this was funny. He had his head so far up his ass it was the antithesis of funny. He had stopped paying attention to anything that wasn't him, and he couldn't believe what a selfish asshole he had been. He also couldn't believe the patience that his friends had for dealing with his selfish asshole ways. If it were him, he probably would have dropped himself so quick.

"It's over now I swear,"

"Yeah, except for the whole sacrifice thing you, Lydia, and Allison thing did. Who knows what that will do," he seethed aloud. "I'm not angry at you," Stiles added with a sigh because even to his ears he sounded very angry. "I'm angry that I didn't even think to ask, I mean really ask, why it took you so long to get me. I yelled, I blamed but I never really asked." He sat down on the bed only about a foot away from Scott and after a moment asked.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked again much softer.

"Because I still should have saved you," and if that earnest look in his friend's eyes didn't make him feel like a horrible friend he wasn't sure what would.

"You do know it's not up to you to save everyone?"

"You're not everyone. You're my best friend and there's no excuse for how long it took me to find you," Stiles nodded, he supposed he understood, if it had been Scott...but even so he was still angry at himself for not even noticing. He laughed under his breath when he realized that two of them were both probably angry at themselves for the same sin of being bad friends but there was no humor in it.

How has this become their lives? Scott was a werewolf with a savior complex, and creatures kept pouring into Beacon Hills. He guessed, even more, would come now because of the sacrifices. And Stiles? He had started this whole thing by pulling Scott with him to go look for half a body in the dead of night. The rest of the craziness of this town had followed...and then the kidnapping had followed. It was a lot for two sixteen-year-olds to handle, too much even. Especially with all the death it came with.

"I'm sorry," he apologized yet again. It seemed like he was always apologizing. When was he going to stop? When would he become the kind of person he wanted to be, the kind that didn't have to apologize every few minutes?

"I'm sorry too," Scott replied somberly and earnestly. They both shared a sort of bittersweet smile between the two of them and lapsed into silence. But even given the nature of their conversation, this silence was a lot less tense than many had been in the past months. Scott was his friend, his best friend after all. He winced as he realized that best friends probably shouldn't keep things from each other. If he really wanted things to go back to the way things used to be, he was going to have to tell him and trust him not to freak out. Scott's eyes were downcast looking at his gray comforter still looking very somber.

He winced as he realized that best friends probably shouldn't keep things from each other. If he really wanted things to go back to the way things used to be, he was going to have to tell him and trust him not to freak out. Scott's eyes were downcast looking at his gray comforter, still looking very somber.

"Since we're in the caring and sharing mode, there's something I probably should tell you." He started rambling before he even fully realized that he was going to talk. Scott looked up from the comforter and Stiles froze not sure how he was going to say it and how Scott was going to react. After all, that's why he, Isaac, and Derek hadn't said anything, why they all agreed not to tell him. But he couldn't lie to him anymore.

"Try to remember though, that you're my friend, not my mom... Derek's been training me to fight." Scott's entire body tensed up and he saw the worry for him come back worse than ever. He got it, he really did now more than ever. If the tables had been turned and Scott had been the one that had come back like he did, he would have done his damndest to fix him, and protect him no matter what Scott had said. But at the same time, he wasn't giving up training, not when it helping him so much. In fact, he was pretty sure it was the thing helping the most. He was sure the determination showed in his eyes because after a long moment Scott ducked his head, looking a little abashed.

"I have been acting rather mother henish haven't I?" he then smiled and then surprisingly laughed a little. He sounded more like his old friend, but that was probably more because he was starting to sound more like his old self as well. Something he definitely thought would never happen four months ago.

"Yeah, but I get it. I was always on the brink and you were afraid I'd teeter off." He had been so close to teetering off so many times. Literally on the bridge and so many other times.

"Is it helping?" Scott asked hesitantly. It was clear he still wasn't fond of the idea but was trying to open himself up to it. Stiles smiled slightly. Now that he told Scott, he could tell him about how things were better now, maybe Scott would stop worry about him then? Or at least worry about him less.

"Yeah, I get hungry now and on nights when I fight I can actually sleep for a few hours," Scott smiled momentarily at the news but still looked worried.

"Do I still have to worry about that? You teetering off." Stiles sighed, he wasn't sure. He was better than he used to be, he knew that now. Which in of itself was something he thought would never happen when he had been about to throw himself off a cliff. He could see now with time and effort being able to find something that resembled the normal of before. But he also knew it might still take awhile and he probably wouldn't always be as clear-headed about it as he was now. He would probably get stuck in himself again, when a dream or nightmare came or after looking at himself too long in the mirror.

"I'm trying to be better," he settled on, but he knew it wasn't enough for Scott and it also really wasn't enough for him either. "I promise to keep trying," he added which felt like more of a commitment but also like it meant more...to the both of them.

"Okay," Scott said matter of factly which sort of threw him for a loop. It sounded like he was okay with the training and everything.

"Okay?"

"Okay," he confirmed.

* * *

Later that night, Stiles was alone in his bed, not sleeping, but just looking up at the ceiling he found himself thinking. If he was being honest he was glad he had learned it when he did. Back in his asshole stage he probably wouldn't have cared and probably would have just seen it as Scott making excuses. It was only now that he was able to see it for what it was and it was probably better for everyone that he had found out now rather than months ago. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep.

 


	60. Chapter 60

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I think by now you all know that I don't own anything.
> 
> A/N: There is only one chapter left until this beast is put to rest. Thanks so much for reading

 

* * *

He couldn't breathe. Sweat was dripping from him in what seemed like streams and the normally chilly room seemed unbearably hot as he dodged hit after hit from Derek. That was the purpose of this little exercise: to dodge. It wasn't the first time though that he had done this and he was getting better at it each time he did it. The first few times Derek had gone a lot slower and he had still been hit a lot more times. It wasn't his favorite part. His favorite part, the learning to attack part, came after but this was also good because it quickened his reflexes. He never thought he'd get so sweaty without even throwing a single punch though. It was starting to run into his eyes, making it more difficult for him to see. With his ragged breathing, he knew that whatever Derek was going to throw at him was more than he could handle. His hand sprang up to stop Derek from attacking him for a moment. Stiles looked slightly surprised at the hand he put up. Huh, that was probably the only time he had ever asked Derek to back off.

Derek nodded after a moment and stepped back.

"Five minutes," he said and made his way up the stairs. Stiles nodded, five minutes was all he needed. He slumped to the ground by the wall and pressed his hot sweaty back against the cool concrete surface. It felt heavenly.

Normally, he didn't take off his shirt while he trained due to the massive amount of scarring underneath it, but the sweat had been dripping off his body and making his shirt cling to him in a very uncomfortable way so he had removed it. Derek and Isaac had both looked at his scarred chest but had thankfully not commented and they had just continued sparring.

Now that he wasn't moving as much he was slightly chilly without it, but didn't put it back on because in five minutes they would just be going again. Isaac sat down next to him, the way he usually did, though the two of them didn't talk, Isaac just let him gather his breath. Sometimes now that Stiles sucked slightly less, Derek felt it was fairer to have either Stiles spar with Isaac or him or have the both betas attack him at once. However, it usually started out this way, one on one with Derek trying to nail his ass to the wall and Stiles doing his best to stop him.

When his breathing was a little more under control he turned to Isaac who was looking at the ceiling of the place.

"So have you done the reading for English yet?" Stiles asked the other beta. Over the weeks of fighting and after Isaac had helped him find his anchor, not too soon, by the way, the two had developed a bit of a friendship. Sometimes it still surprised him, but right now he was just focusing on breathing and Isaac's response.

"Not yet. Let me guess, you've finished the book?" Stiles smiled slightly. Apparently he also, like Scott, realized that Stiles tended to be way ahead in his homework.

"Yep,"

"How long ago?" Isaac asked still looking up at the ceiling and sounding almost bored, unlike Scott who would have a current of concern underneath it. He thought back for a moment before replying.

"A month, I think," Isaac nodded like Stiles' answer didn't surprise him in the least.

"I'm about two chapters behind," Isaac admitted easily. That didn't surprise him either. Isaac had never seemed like the overly scholarly type. Granted before he had been taken and needed to keep his mind off it, neither had he. Especially with all the supernatural stuff going on.

His head jolted up as he heard distant thudding coming from the stairs, it's pattern was familiar. Derek was coming back. Sharing a brief look with Isaac the two of them as one looked to the stairs to see Derek emerging from the darkness. Derek silently asked a question which Stiles answered aloud while climbing to his feet.

"I'm ready." He felt and heard more than saw Isaac doing the same.

"We still evading or have we actually gotten to the fighting part of the night?" he asked as he felt the familiar werewolf sideburn crop up on the sides of his face.

"Fighting," was Derek as always stoic response. He knew that Derek knew how to emote, but pulling anything but smirks from him when Stiles sucked was like pulling teeth. Stiles got into his ready stance and Derek came at him again.

Derek took a swipe at his chest which Stiles narrowly evaded. He turned quickly two times so that he was suddenly on the other side of Derek where he aimed a kick at his chest. Like always, Derek easily managed to evade him. He wondered how long it was going to take before he managed to get a good kick or punch in. However, most of him was focused on keeping moving. Keeping evading the kicks and punches and looking for any small opening in Derek's defenses that he could use to get a kick or punch in. After another minute he finally spotted an opening and took it. Stiles managed to punch Derek hard in the chest so he flew backward a few feet.

Derek looked at him slightly impressed, but only for a moment before throwing his whole body weight into a punch that even as Stiles turned grazed his side. However, even though he was hit he managed to stay in place which well didn't happen that often. Unfortunately, it also meant his eyes darted down to his arm. He didn't notice Derek legs coming towards him, he did, however, hear a loud whooshing sound in the air.

"Derek!" he faintly heard as the world faded to gray.

* * *

Cold. He was cold and was on an eerily familiar surface. Cold. The floor was cold. Concrete. His eyes snapped open into darkness. Black inky darkness. His head throbbed in time with his heartbeat which was rocketing up by the second.

No. No. He shook his head and tried to run but he was frozen in place- because he was chained up. He was chained up so that he couldn't leave. No. No. No. No. No. His body starting shaking in terror. The trembling only got worse as he heard footsteps on the stairs. They were coming for again. They were coming or him. No. No. NO.

"What the-" It was them! It was them!

It was them. They were going to hurt him more than they already had hurt him. No. No. No. He heard two voices talking at him. It had to be Cutter and Bruiser because both voices were male.

Together. His heart plummeted into his stomach. They rarely came together. More frequently they came one after the other but almost never together. They were cruel and painful enough on their own. He couldn't handle them together. He hunched in on himself to give them less area that they could damage and protected himself as best he could.

No. No. They were touching him, he curled up into a ball as much as he could. Anything he could do to protect himself from their cruel hands. But it never helped in the past and he knew it wouldn't help now. Tears started rolling silently down his cheeks as tried to get himself ready for the pain to come, the anguish yet again.

"No! No!" he felt something grab him from behind and a voice say.

"Stiles! Stiles! Stiles!" They were taunting him, taunting him in their cruel voices.

"Stop! Stop! I'm sorry!" He shouted trying to get them to stop before they started, even though it had never worked before. Stiles wasn't even sure why he was trying, he just didn't want to go through that pain again. Never again.

"No, don't touch me!"

"It's okay! It's okay! It's over!" Only something was different. Something was wrong. Those words, there was something wrong with those words. They didn't fit here. Not in the dark, cold basement. There was something wrong. But what was it? There was something wrong?

"Stiles! Stiles!" Suddenly he snapped back to himself. He wasn't back there. He was in the railway station. Bruiser and Cutter weren't there. It was only Derek and Isaac both staring at him openly worried.

"Oh my gosh," Stiles said faintly and looked away from them, his breathing still heavy and shallow but evening out slightly.

He blinked several times trying to make sense of everything. Just moments ago he was so sure he was back there and now he knew that he wasn't. He was fine. Bruiser and Cutter were dead and burned. Stiles had been to the house. Had walked the halls and seen the corpse of the place he had been in. He was fine. He was fine. Then why was he still trembling? His hands were still trembling and no matter how much he tried he couldn't seem to stop them. They just kept trembling like they made of jello, flesh colored jello.

"You okay? Stiles are you okay?" Stiles jumped startled by the words, even if he was too out of it to figure out or care who they had come from. He shook his head once briefly before bringing his legs up and burying his head in them. He wasn't okay. He definitely wasn't okay. For about five minutes he had been sure he was back there. This time it wasn't a dream, or a memory. He had been sure that he was physically back there with those brutes and he couldn't seem to stop his heart from pounding harshly in his chest. His breathing was sharp too, but he supposed not nearly as sharp as it had been before.

He was okay. He was okay. It was over. He was fine. He was safe. He was in the railway station. He was learning how to kick ass so that something like that would never happen again. It was all okay. It was all going to be okay...only his body wouldn't stop trembling. He was okay. He was free. He was free. He repeated to himself over and over trying to get it to stick in his mind, at least enough so that he could stop shaking. He had to stop shaking. He was fine. He was fine. Now if he could just say it to himself another 100 times, he might even believe it.

Only, he had to calm down now. Isaac and Derek were staring at him and if he didn't calm down they might take training away from him which was the best thing going on in his life at the moment. Without it, he would probably fall back into bad coping mechanisms. His anchor. His anchor was meant to keep him human in the light of the moon but before he had used it to go on to try for something better many months ago in the forest.

His mom. His mom. Her kind face. The way her eyes would light up when she was proud of him. He closed his eyes and pictured his mom rather than the dank basement that previously filled his thoughts. His mom. His mom... He missed her so much. The familiar pain returned but pushed piece by piece the basement from his mind. While he was still drowning in sadness, his breathing started to slow and the trembling stopped. He'd been dealing with this pain for years. It had gotten better but it had never fully gone away but he knew how to handle this pain far better than the other one.

When he felt like he finally got a handle on himself, he looked up to see Derek and Isaac staring at him like imagined doctors and nurses stared at mental patients. Like they knew they were crazy but knew talking about how nuts they were would only be counterproductive. For a long time, the two just stared at him before Isaac finally spoke, only he spoke quietly to Derek.

"Let me handle this." Derek nodded looking somewhat relieved and headed back up the stairs again. He was also slightly relieved. Derek knew what it was like to be tortured but he wasn't great with emotions, much less sharing them or watching others share. But now that he had a grip on himself he found himself unable to look at Isaac or anything. 

He had completely spun out and he wasn't even sure why of all times it had happened then. Isaac wasn't deterred, he sat down next to him on the floor like he had done many times before. He sat casually, like it was every day you watched someone hallucinate or whatever it was he did.

"Come on. It's not like you've never seen me spin out before. Anytime I get into a small space I turn into a wreck." Stiles nodded, then finally looked up at Isaac who didn't look at him with pity or anything like he was fearing, but understanding. The freezer, his dad had put him into a freezer. What kind of Dad would do that?

"I don't know." To his horror he realized he had spoken the question aloud. Isaac looked down at the floor for a long moment then back up to him.

"He used to be a great Dad. That's the dad I like to remember," he said with a sad smile. He couldn't imagine it, using a Dad that hurt him as an anchor but he supposed some might say the same about using a dead mom. He supposed he couldn't judge. Isaac had been one first one of the betas to find one.

His thoughts drifted unwanted back to the basement, that he had briefly mentally traveled back to. The training that they were doing was supposed to get rid of those dreams, not make him hallucinate, dream or whatever back to those terrible moments. It was all supposed to go away, be forgotten. That's what control was supposed to give him right? The ability to forget the terrible things in his past?

Then why were they still spinning around his head, ready to come back out and whack him the moment he got...kicked in the head. Derek had kicked him in the head and somehow that had triggered it. It was supposed to help him, and for the most part it did. He was stronger, faster, more confident in his skills. He ate more, he was starting to gain some weight even though for the most part he still looked the same. It was supposed to fix him. Only it hadn't. The memories were still there bubbling under the surface, only needing a dream or being knocked out to resurface and tear his life apart, yet again.

Talking about it. That's what his therapist said would help. Honestly, he had never listened to her because he had thought he was sure that talking about would only lead to bad memories that there were best kept locked up like the gold in Fort Knox. It's why his appointments had been moved back to once a week even though he had never talked. But he had started to gain weight and stop cutting himself, both the therapist and his dad must have gotten tired of the appointments since Stiles never spoke a word.

Everyone kept talking about talking like it was this great fix all. He had never even thought about believing it. Not for a second. Cutting, good fix but not one that was apparently socially acceptable. Werewolf, good fix except for the fact he healed too quickly and until recently had zero control over his wolf. Fighting, much better fix but none of them seemed to be able to stop the nightmares, and his thoughts from returning to that place whenever he was exhausted or mentally distracted.

He was tired of being constantly vigilant, of never letting himself relax for a moment in case his thoughts drifted to what he tried to deny ever happened. He was tired of hating himself whenever he looked in a mirror because it brought the memories back. He was just tired of letting this fear consume him.

He had come to a decision. Maybe it would make things worse. Maybe it would make things better. But at least this way he would know if all the advice everyone kept trying to give him was actually worth anything.

"Did you mean it?" he asked in barely a whisper looking down to the dirty concrete floor. He had half a mind to wash it, but it would only get dirty again the next time they trained or the next time Derek or Isaac left.

"Mean what?" Isaac answered sounding confused but Stiles didn't look up from the dusty floor. If Isaac agreed he wasn't sure he was going to look up till he was done.

"When you said that if I wanted to, I could talk to you?" There was a long pause in which half of Stiles wanted the answer to be no so he could just flee in the night like a bat out of hell. The other part wanted it to be yes, so that he could say things, say things that no one else but he knew. Scott and his Dad may have suspected, but none of them actually knew the grisly nitty gritty details of what had happened in that basement. No one did except him. He hadn't wanted anyone to know...but now, now he was as ready as he was going to be.

"Yeah, Stiles, you can tell me anything you want," Isaac finally answered softly. Part of him was crushed as those words came out because that meant he would actually have to talk. He would actually have to willingly talk about everything that haunted him at night. He nearly backed out then and there. But he closed his eyes and pictured his mom who he knew would want him to get better and if this helped...well he had to try.

The tears started before he spoke a single word.

"I never knew their names. Not their real ones at least. But I created names for them. Bruiser, Whips and Cutter...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading :)


	61. Chapter 61

* * *

Halloween. It was Halloween and all the monsters seemed to know it. His nightmares had come back with a vengeance and so he was back to not sleeping very often, plus a resurgence of old problems along with a few new. But it's not like he lacked for things to do instead. It was the off season for lacrosse. Though he finally managed to get on the team for the last three games of the season, that wasn't what was keeping him busy. Instead, lately, it had been his friends. Scott liked the new girl and Allison and Isaac were starting to make googly eyes at each other.

Honestly, he was happy for his two friends, especially Isaac who Stiles had gotten a lot closer to in the past six months. He, Scott, and Isaac had all gotten pretty close but Stiles and Isaac had talked a lot to each other about their respective pasts. He was pretty sure it helped Isaac out nearly as much as it helped him out. A few months ago he started actually talking to his therapist as well. It was more helpful than he had thought it would be. But honestly, while he still preferred to stay busy, he would have preferred spending his time doing more mundane things. Instead, they were dealing with the effects of the ritual his friends had done, which had slowly built up over time but had only become really threatening/alarming problematic in the past week until the three of them were finally able to overcome their particular issues. They'd barely gotten through those issues when the whole Barrow situation came up. Though finally, they had gotten the night to relax or at least as relaxed as they were ever going to get.

They were at Danny's black out party and he was trying to get used to the glowing bodies around him and the music. If Derek caught them here, he was going to freak out so much. His attention shifted when he saw her standing not far away from him. She wasn't part of the party scene though she was watching it with a faraway look in her eyes.

He blinked and he was suddenly next to her not remembering how he got there. Lydia seemed surprised by his sudden presence as well and since they had gotten past the walking-on-eggshells stage she felt comfortable enough to just say, "What?"

"It's gone, right? The whole not being able to read thing?" He mentioned her, thankfully, temporary affliction that she got thanks to the whole sacrifice thing. He was kind of glad that he hadn't been there for that. But he had been there for the thankfully brief period where she had been utterly unable to read a single thing, which he knew was hard for her especially now that she was no longer pretending to be dumb. A change that had taken place relatively recently.

"Yeah it's gone," she confirmed but her voice sounded rather somber which is when he realized the reason for her reticence.

"He's gone isn't he?" Jackson's Dad had been given a promotion. Unfortunately for the pack, especially Lydia, that promotion meant that his family had to move to London. Other than the "American Werewolf in London" jokes, there hadn't been much to be happy about lately. Jackson was supposed to have moved in the summer with his family but he managed to talk his parents into letting him stay a few more months until they sold the house. Everyone knew though that at any moment, he would leave as soon as they got a good deal. It must have happened and he must have left. Without saying anything to anyone but Lydia. Thus the sad almost vacant look in Lydia's eyes.

"Oh my god Lydia, I'm so sorry." He launched himself at her and held her briefly. He sometimes still had trouble initiating long-term touching but he was working on it and it was easier with some people more than others. Lydia was apparently one of those people.

"The good news is that there will be opening in the lacrosse team and I think you could make firstline." Lydia said giving him a small smile. He had made the team but he had hardly played and wasn't first line. Maybe because the coach had been still worried about him.

"Lydia, right now I couldn't care less about making firstline." Besides, he was technically in the normal BMI range and since he was a werewolf he doubted he would have a problem making firstline this time around. Mostly though he was worried about Lydia. She and Jackson had broken apart for a bit during his absence but for the most part, she and him had been together and relatively happy for quite a while.

"It just seems to be a stupid thing to worry about with everything going on around here," Lydia said.

"Hey, it's not stupid. If it matters to you, it's not stupid." He tried to soothe her, touching the tops of her arms lightly 'Definitely easier to touch her than others' he thought to himself. Lydia nodded but she didn't seem convinced.

"I'll be fine. I'll be fine," she seemed to be trying to convince herself as much or more than she was trying to convince Stiles. She started walking off, and after a quick glance, she looked like she was going towards Aiden. During the fight during his absence, she and Aiden had got together but had since broken up again. But it seemed like maybe Lydia might be looking to rekindle the romance despite what Ethan and Aiden had done to the pack, maybe because of how much she missed Jackson.

"Lydia are you sure you're okay?" he asked as she was walking away. She briefly paused and looked back at him.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said in a way that did nothing to convince him of her words. He let her go though, even as he watched her leave. Things were different between them now. They were friends. If something eventually happened between them that was okay. But just being friends was also okay right now. Whatever happened in the future between them was okay with him, as long as they stayed friends.

"Hey, you okay?" he jumped as he noticed Scott behind him. He must have been lost in his thoughts not to notice that Scott had moved toward him.

"Yeah, Jackson's gone," he said telling Scott, because if he knew he probably would have told him. Scott blinked but slowly nodded. Stiles knew his friend was sad to see Jackson go but at the same time had known it was coming for months.

"Lydia?" Stiles just pointed to her in response. Scott nodded but turned back to him.

"But how are you?" Stiles rolled his eyes. Scott was normally more like the friend he used to be but sometimes he still mother-henned him the way he never used to.

"I know you've been having trouble sleeping again," Scott cut him off before he could tell him he was fine. Damn, ok.

"Yeah, but it's not exactly like the last few days or weeks have been uneventful," he said not denying it really, but he doubted it was much more than that. If it took much longer to go back to his normal sleeping schedule, which technically was still short on proper amount of sleep hours, but granted much more normal than it had been before, he might start to be a little more concerned.

"I know, I just…" worry, was the unspoken word that hung in the air between the two of them.

"I know buddy, I know, but who knows when the next supernatural threat is going to hit, so until then we should have some fun." He started to dance out into the middle of dance floor before Scott could argue, leaving his best friend behind to dance with his own girl. Hopefully, after everything they had gone through recently, they could have just one night to let loose before it got bad again. Hopefully.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much everyone who has reached this point. I know it's been a bit of a crazy journey with there being more than one period where I didn't update this for a long time. This story's been a very hard story personally for me to write. 
> 
> The way Stiles feels through the really sad parts of this story is an exaggerated version of how I felt writing this. So often times this way the only way I could get out my feelings. 
> 
> Thank you for your patience and kindness I have appreciated every comment I have gotten on this story.
> 
> Like I said the story is finished, but there is a chance it may have a sequel. However, if will probably be longtime befoe I post anything since I have several projects I'm currently working on and that is if it does happen. Thanks again everyone.


End file.
